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HENRY ELWOOD, 


A THEOLOGICAL NOVEL 



By Milton R. Scott. 


Yet I doubt not thro' the one unceasing purpose runs, 

And the thoughts of inertKire widen’d with tlje process of the sUns!" 

TbnnysoS* 


. OF C 

■ A),, 


■* \\ 


I DEC 30 lasi )} 

^hinotoe‘ * 


NEWARK, OHIO: 
Newark amejrican print. 
1892. 


fit. 

, H 


V 


I'hilerrd according to Act of Congress, in the gear ISiU, hg 
Mii/roN R. S(’OTT, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I. 

“Promise and Potency” 






PAGE 

5 

ir. 

Choice and Consecration 






16 

III. 

Aiming and Aspiring 






22 

IV. 

Questions and Queries 






25 

V. 

Fears and Forebodings 






32 

VI. 

Interest and Influence 






39 

VII. 

Grace and Grit 






46 

VIII. 

Mysteries and Miseries 






53 

IX. 

Inspiration and Interrogation 





57 

X. 

Doubt and Darkness 






62 

XI. 

Duty and Devotion 






68 

XII. 

Fate and Faith 






74 

XIII. 

Promise and Prospect 






82 

XIV. 

Hoping and Helping 






86 

XV. 

Creed and Confession 






92 

XVI. 

Why- a.vd Wherefore 






97 

XVII. 

Strife and Struggle 






101 

XVIII. 

“ Live and Learn ” 






110 

XIX. 

Desire and Disappointment 






119 

XX. 

Counsel and Consideration 






123 

XXI. 

Counsel and Comfort 

. 





128 

XXII. 

Plotting and Planning 

. 





135 

XXIII. 

“Progress and Poverty” 

, 




* 

143 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.' PAGE 

XXIV. Wealth and Worth 152 

XXV. Power and Precision 160 

XXVI. WooiNO AND Waiting 166 

XXVII. Pastor and People 174 

XXVIII. Doctors and Doctrines 178 

XXIX. Wooing and Working 189 

XXX. Wooing and Winning 194 

XXXI. Work and Worry 202 

XXXII. Married and Mated 208 

XXXIII. Tenants and Tenements .... 215 

XXXIV. Prayer and Providence .... 221 

XXXV. A ERECTION AND Ae’fliction .... 229 

XXXVI. Shades and Shadows 233 

XXXVII. Prisons and Prisoners 239 

XXXVIII. Sin and Sorrow 245 

XXXIX. Service and Sacrifice 253 

XL. Work and Wages . . . . . , 258 

XLI. Signs and Symboi.s . .• . . . . 265 

XLII. Dogmas and Doctrines 269 

XLIII. Point and Purpose 275 

XLIV. Trial and Triumph 281 

XLV. Advice and Admonition .... 287 

XL VI. Conference and Consultation . . . 293 

XLVII. Light and Liberty 299 

XLVIII. Mortality and Immortality . . . 309 


CHAPTER I. 


■“ PROMISE AND POTENCY.” 

Henry Elwood, the “hero” of our story — if “hero” 
he should be called — was born in the year 185-, in the vil- 
lage of Arcadia, in the state of X ; and in the month 

of May, 187-, we find him a member of the Senior class 
of Beulah College in the same state. 

He had just been awarded the highest honors of his 
class, and was about to prepare his “oration,” to be 
pronounced on Commencement day, when he should 
receive his degree of “A. B.,” and launch his bark, as the 
phrase goes, upon the sea of active life. 

Elwood’s character at this time was far from being 
fully formed — perhaps we should say evolved — but he had 
been a hard and faithful student, and had scrupulously 
avoided all cheats and shams ; so that whatever may be 
thought of the value or importance of the honor conferred 
upon him, it could be truly said, that it was fairly and 
honorably won. 

Ah, that men and women everywhere could realize 
that it is not getting the prizes of life, but earning them, 
that makes our lives worth living ! 

Elwood had chosen as the subject of his oration, 
“The Value of a Classical Education;” and without 
accusing him of vanity, it may be said that he considered 
it a comparatively easy task to produce such a compo- 
sition as would satisfy himself and also secure the favorable 
notice of the Faculty and his fellow-students. 


6 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


There was nothing dry or irksome to him in the study 
of the Latin and Greek ; on the contrary, his intellect 
always rejoiced — almost thrilled — in the work; — and the 
satisfaction he obtained from it was not to be measured by 
any mateiial or merely utilitarian standard. 

The light of the sun needs no demonstration of its 
value to one whose eyes are wide-open, nor the heat of a 
furnace to one who feels its glow and power J 

In addition to the conscious mental development that 
he had derived from the study of Latin and Greek, he had 
accepted without question all the statements and argu- 
ments of the College Professors as to the advantages of 
the classical course over all others ; and so intense and 
enthusiastic had been his application to all the tasks set 
before him, that he had never had more than a passing 
doubt about the perfection of the wisdom that had made 
Latin and Greek so prominent in the College course. 

If Elwood attached more importance to a graduating 
address than justly belongs to it, let him not be blamed 
therefor — he always wanted to do good work. His stan- 
dard was a very high one ; and while he was not altogether 
free from the desire to surpass his fellow-students — who 
among all the sons of men can claim to love excellence 
solely for its own sake? — it may be truly said that 
he would have given his best effort to the prepara- 
tion of his address, if it had been the only one to be deliv- 
ered on Commencement day. 

What an indescribable charm is given to all high and 
noble workmanship, whether of man or woman, when we 
know that it accords with the worker’s fixed habit and 
character ! 

After studying and “reading up” and fully charging 
his mind with all the points and arguments in favor of the 
classical course of study that he could command, he at 
length sat down to write. Every thought was expressed 


“PROMISE AND POTENCY.” 


7 


as clearly and concisely as possible ; and his position was 
enforced with all the reasons and illustrations within his 
reach ; and very soon as much “ matter ” was produced as 
the time allotted for his oration would permit him to 
deliver — but he was not satisfied ! 

Again and again he read over what he had written ; 
searched diligently for grammatical and rhetorical errors, 
and corrected all he found; transposed a number of sen- 
tences ; struck out a few passages, and inserted others that 
seemed more pertinent ; reviewed his text-books on 
“ Rhetoric ” and “ Logic ; ’’and so forth ; and so forth ! 

But all in vain ! 

What a relief it would be, he distinctly thought, if he 
had no one to address but the Faculty and his fellow-stu- 
dents. How easy to convince them that his posi- 
tion was correct and his arguments unanswerable. 

But the more he thought of the miscellaneous audi- 
ence he was to meet the more unsatisfactory his produc- 
tion became. 

Very many College graduates would have gotten out 
of this dilemma with the comforting reflection that their 
production was too “deep” for the audience they were to 
address ; but Elwood’s sense was too clear and strong for 
such a cordial as this. His habit with all difficult prob- 
lems that came before him was to master them ; and he 
firmly resolved to master this one. 

As soon as this determination was formed in his mind, 
all the objections he had ever heard to the study of Latin 
and Greek came rushing upon his recollection as so many 
demons refusing to be exorcised ; and for the first time in 
his life Henry Elwood realized that the value of a classical 
education was a question with two sides — if not more ! 


The name of Herbert Spencer was not as widely 
known at that time as it is now: but his books had found 


8 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


their way into the College library ; and chancing to see in 
some newspaper a quotation from Mr. Spencer’s work 
on “ Education, ” that seemed to him very pertinent and 
pungent, Elwood made haste to secure the book, and 
went through the first chapter on “ What Knowledge Is of 
the Most Worth?” without rest or interruption. Spen- 
cer’s depreciation of the study of languages and his man- 
ner of urging the claims of physical science almost took 
the young man’s breath away ; but his mental grit and 
habit forbade the “immediate and unconditional surren- 
der” of all opposing opinions, that the distinguished 
author would seem to require of his readers. 

In spite of Spencer’s elaborate arguments and 
emphatic assertiofis as to the superior value of physical sci- 
ence, the young man had the unanswerable testimony of 
his own consciousness that the study of Latin and Greek 
was profitable ; and for the time being this was all the ma- 
terial he had, from which to /^-construct the oration that 
was bearing so heavily upon his mind. 

He was alone with his thought ! 

The next day he saw a pamphlet containing an 
address delivered before the students of Hiram College by 
Gen. James A. Garfield, who, besides his brilliant military 
record, was already recognized as one of the leading 
members of the Congress of the United States. 

As soon as Elwood saw the title-page of this pam- 
phlet, the fond hope arose in his breast that here was the 
very light that he wanted — but how disappointed he was ! 

Instead of answering and refuting Mr. Spencer’s argu- 
ments, the distinguished soldier and statesman took almost 
precisely the same position ; and his utterances possessed 
a force and clearness that no one could fail to appreciate. 

After going through the bod)’’ of Garfield’s address 
with the feeling of one who realizes that the last stone in 
the foundation of his house is about to give way, what an 


“PROMISE AND POTENCY. 


9 


inexpressible and suggestive relief it was to find at the 
close that it was only the amount of time given to the 
study of Latin and Greek that was condemned, and that, 
after all, “there are most weighty reasons why Latin and 
Greek should be retained as a part of a liberal education.” 
This might be called but a crumb of comfort ; but to one 
in Elwood’s peculiar mental condition it was a crumb of 
choicest flavor; and he seized it with the avidity of one 
who was very hungry, if not well-nigh starved. 

Those “most weighty reasons” — where were they to 
be found ? 

Was there, indeed, no place to seek for them except in 
the depths of his own poor consciousness ? 

The village of Beulah is situated on the river of the 
same name, and is surrounded with a goodly number of 
noble hills, from the top of which is obtained a view of 
the surrounding country extending several miles in every 
direction. Elwood had frequently climbed these hills 
during his College course, and always enjoyed the view of 
Nature which they gave him. Sometimes this was in com- 
pany with some of his fellow-students, but most frequently 
alone. Especially when he encountered a difficult problem 
in any of his studies that defied all his efforts at solution 
would he seek the respite and exhilaration that a walk 
upon these hills never failed to give him. And nearly 
always he came back to his room with victory on his 
brow ! 

Who can understand the responses of sky and tree 
and cloud and grass and flower and water and sunshine to 
all the struggles and aspirations of the human soul ? 

' The vain and the proud and the evil-minded shall 
never comprehend the ministry of Mother Nature ; but to 
all who are clean and healthy in body and mind she gives 
a power and inspiration that is the very wine ot the gods ! 

And so on this May afternoon, soon after his perusal 


10 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


of Gen. Garfield’s address, Elwood started on his favorite 
walk. In a very few minutes he reached the top of a hill 
directly overlooking the river, Avhich was then at a very 
high stage of water on account of recent rains. 

Elwood did not have Ruskin’s peculiar appreciation 
of the sublimity of hills and mountains, nor had he, like 
Emerson, penetrated very far into the depths of Nature’s 
mysteries ; but he loved all the sights and sounds and 
odors that came to him ; and his spirit was greatly elated 
by the broad and diversified view of Nature which his high 
standpoint gave him. He looked up and down the river, 
and listened to the flow of its waters, until he felt the 
power of its tide ; he surveyed the sky and clouds, until his 
soul rose to their heights ; and he drank in the combined 
influence of all the elements around him, until he not only 
realized that the problem before him would surely be 
solved, but he felt within himself the “promise and 
potency” of a grand and successful life! 

Let no man despise books, and theories, and creeds, 
and catechisms, and confessions, and doctrines, and form- 
ulas, These are indeed the ladders by which we may 
climb upward and heaven-ward ; but whoever would fully 
know the truth must speak with God and Nature face to face ! 

In this high mood Elwood started back to the College 
grounds ; but before he reached the foot of the hill, he 
unexpectedly met Mr. Joseph Carroll, Superintendent of 
the Beulah public schools, with whom he had some 
acquaintance. 

Their greeting was very cordial ; and alter introducing 
to Elwood his daughter Alice, a young woman yet in her 
teens (the reader must not be curious about her exact 
age) by whom he was accompanied, Mr. Carroll proposed 
that they should walk over the hill together : which propo- 
sition was gladly accepted by Elwood ; for as soon he saw 
Mr. Carroll, he remembered having heard him speak of 


“PROMISE AND POTENCY.” 


11 


Herbert Spencer’s work on “Education” as a book that 
should be read by every parent and teacher, and he now 
felt a very earnest desire to talk with him farther con- 
cerning Mr, Spencer’s peculiar views and theories. 

As soon as they reached the shade of a noble oak on 
the summit of the hill, and seated themselves on the grass 
that they might enjoy the grand view before them, 
Elwood made some allusion* to Spencer, and asked Mr. 
Carroll if he accepted all the views advanced in the work 
before mentioned. 

“Certainly not all of them,” was the prompt reply; 
“Mr. Spencer is very high authority, but he is neither 
‘ inerrant ’ nor ‘infallible.’ Education is too high and 
noble an art to be reduced to any man’s formulated 
theories, however excellent they may be.” 

How could Elwood fail to notice the brightness 
of Alice Carroll’s face, showing how clearly she under- 
stood her father’s meaning and appreciated the force 
of his words ! 

“What do you think of the arguments he uses 
against the study of languages and in favor of the 
sciences?” asked the young man with some eagerness. 

“If all that Mr. Spencer says about the value of 
science be admitted,” was the reply, “it does not 
follow that the study of the languages is of no value, 
or of as little value as he would have us believe. At 
any rate, no one can understand the grammar of his 
own language, unless he learns to compare it with that 
of other languages ; and I think no better basis can 
be found for this study than the Latin — as such I 
believe it has a ‘ practical ’ value that can hardly be 
estimated too highly.” 

“In his sweeping condemnation of the study of 
language,” continued Mr. Carroll, “it seems to me 
that Spencer plays the part of a special pleader rather 


12 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


than that of a philosopher. At any rate, he does not 
seem to appreciate the value of language study as a 
means of mental discipline, or rather of mental exer- 
cise — I like that term better.” 

“But don’t you think that he lays too much 
stress on the practical vdXue. oi science?” asked Elwood. 

“Spencer’s standard of value is a very high one,” 
was Mr. Carroll’s response; “but he overlooks the 
fact, that, as the human body, on account of its 
complicated structure, requires a variety of both food 
and exercise, so the human mind needs a variety 
of knowledge, and likewise a variety of exercise, or 
discipline, as you please. If direct scientific training were 
as all-important as Mr. Spencer represents, why does 
he not rule out the higher mathematics as well as the 
languages? It would also be consistent with his theory 
to demand that less time be given to the study of 
Arithmetic, as very little of that is directly practical.” 

“Do you think there is more discipline in the 
study of languages than of mathematics?” inquired 
Elwood. 

“The difference is in kind rather than in degree,” 
was the response; “and it is therefore very hard to 
make a direct comparison : but whatever may be 
claimed for the discipline of mathematics, I still believe 
that in the analytical study of the Latin and Greek 
there is a training of the taste and judgment, that 
can not be had in mathematics or the physical sciences 
on account of their definiteness and exactness.” But 
after all the value of all studies in schools and colleges 
depends on hoiv they are taught." 

Elwood’s face assumed a puzzled aspect at this. He 
looked at Mr. Carroll and then at his daughter, and 
said inquiringly : “ I do not quite understand you. How 
can the manner of teaching be so important ? ” 


“PROMISE AND POTENCY.” 


IS 


“ Why^” said Mr. Carroll in reply, “in spite of 
all Herbert Spencer’s elaborate reasoning in his first 
chapter to show the superior value of Science, in his 
second chapter he takes up the teaching of mathe- 

matics, drawing and other branches, and shows most 
admirably how they should all be taught so as to 
draw out and develop the powers of pupils and lead 
them to make observations and investigations of their 
own. I have no doubt Mr. Spencer thinks the physical 
sciences should be taught on the same principle that 
he urges lor the teaching of mathematics; but from 
the reading of his ’first chapter one would almost 

conclude that the only important thing is to get 

physical facts into the mind ! It is very little — I 

mean comparatively very little — scientific knowledge that 
any one can acquire at best ; and when he engages 
in any employment or business he will have to learn 
its details, and, in a certain sense, unlearn what he has 
learned at school ; but if his faculties have been properly 
trained, his chances for success in life will be greatly 
increased, and what is still more important, he will be a 
larger-minded and nobler man.” 

“Then you think that in educational work every 
thing depends on the character and qualifications of the 
teacher ? 

“I could hardly speak too emphatically on this 
point. My experience with the various ‘methods,’ ‘sys- 
tems ’ and ‘ improvements ’ in education brings me to the 
conclusion, that the living teacher is greater than all of 
them, and more important than all of them.” 

There was a moment’s pause, after which Mr. Carroll 
continued: “As we look up and down Beulah river and 
over these hills to-day, all Nature is bright and beautiful, 
and we are intensely delighted with every object that 
meets our eyes; and all because the sun is shining upon us 


14 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


SO brightly. I know of nothing to which I could so fitly 
liken the work of a teacher. He or she should at least 
reflect the light of the sun of truth upon every lesson and 
every branch of study, so that the minds of all his pupils 
may be enlivened and quickened thereby. Yes, let me 
repeat,” he added with a glow of enthusiasm on his face, 
“from the lips of a noble teacher all knowledge is noble, 
all knowledge is practical, and I had almost said, all 
knowledge is divine.” 

These utterances of Mr. Carroll sounded like a reve- 
lation to Elwood ; but he ventured no expression or 
inquiry in response, and presently Mr. Carroll continued : 
“I often think that preachers as well as teachers do not 
fully realize the importance of the sphit in which their 
work is performed. I am never seriously concerned about 
the doctrines and dogmas that a preacher believes, and I 
care not whether he be strictly ‘ orthodox ’ or not, pro- 
vided he has power to interest his people in moral issues, 
and can give inspiration and direction to their moral facul- 
ties.” 

This remark concerning preachers made no particular 
impression on Elwood at the time ; but in after years he 
remembered it as with the clearness of a sunbeam ! 

“ But you do not expect a teacher to do any part of 
his pupils’ work for them?” he asked, after a moment’s 
reflection. 

“ By no means, was the prompt reply ; “on the con- 
trary, the true teacher is the one who so enlightens and 
inspires his pupils as to secure the greatest possible 
activity and self-development on their part ; and, on the 
same principle, I believe that the preacher who wants to 
save people’s souls must inspire them to work out their 
own salvation.” 

In the entire conversation on the subject of education 
between Elwood and Mr. Carroll, which closed with this 


“PROMISE AND POTENCY.” 


15 


utterance of the latter, Alice Carroll took no part, 
except to cast an occasional glance from one of the men to 
the other ; but Elwood distinctly thought her the most 
interesting listenet he had ever met ; and the words of her 
father seemed so much clearer to him from the reflection 
of her eyes and face ! 

What divine interpreters ye are, O women thus 
highly gifted ! 


CHAPTER II. 


CHOICE AND CONSECRATION. 

Henry Elwood’s mother was a Presbyterian, but a 
woman of Quaker descent ; and on the evening of his 
interview with Supt. Carroll he received the following 
letter from her : 

Arcadia, May — , 187-, 

My Dear Henry : 

I fear it will be impossible for me to attend your coming Com- 
mencement exercises, much as I would desire to do so. 

How swiftly time Hies, Henry ! It seems so short a time since 
you began your College course ; and now it is but a few weeks 
until you will graduate and be ready to prepare yourself for some 
business or profession. 

You know, Henry, that although your father never sought to 
dictate your course while he was living, yet he always cherished 
the hope that you would become a Presbyterian minister ; and 
such, too, has been my desire, especially since you entered Col- 
lege — that is, if the Spirit of the Lord should so direct you. You 
have no doubt begun to think seriouslj- about the matter yourself ; 
and I hope you are earnestly praying for divine direction. I have 
always found in my own experience, Henry, that when I have 
waited in patience and humility for the guidance of the Spirit I 
have not been disappointed. 

I went over to see your old schoolmate and playmate, Frank 
Newcomb, yesterday. He is getting very feeble; and although 
consumption is a very hard disease .to understand, I do not believe 
he can live many weeks longer. He is confined to his bed most of 
the time and does not talk much ; but as soon as I spoke to him he 
began to ask questions about you, and wanted to know how you 
were getting along at College and whether you came out at the 
head of your class ; and when I told him you did, he said you 
were the hardest boy to beat either in study or play that he ever 


CHOICE AND CONSECRATION. 17 

knew, although you always played fairly, and would never take 
any advantage of the other boys. 

It must have been an hour or two that I staid with him; 
and he talked about you nearly all the time. When I told 
him you would be home in a few weeks, his face brightened 
up, and he expressed the hope that he could go hunting and 
fishing with you again. 

And when I started home Mrs. Newcomb followed me out 
to the gate, and told me that Frank talks a great deal about 
you, and that when he got your letter a few weeks ago, it 
did him so much good, that he sat up all day and read it 
over several times. Couldn’t you write to him often, Henry? 
It would do him more good than you can imagine. 

Going down street one day last week I met Mrs. Maloney, 
mother of the little Irish girl who broke through the ice 
while skating when you were at home last winter and was 
taken out by you so nearly dead. She almost overwhelmed 
me with blessings both for you and myself. 

“Shure, Mishtress Ilwood,” she said to me, “you ought 
to be vary prowd to have sich a son as would plunge into 
the cowld water for the sake of a little girl like Maggie, when 
he didn’t know whither she was dead or alive, and didn’t 
even know as he’d git out alive hissilf ! All the ither min 
and and byes that were there thought they could do nuthin’ 
fur her ; but your Hinry broke right through the ice and picked 
her up, although she didn’t know inny thing for some time afther 
they browt her home. The good Lord will surely bliss a young 
mon like that, an’ shure, he will bliss you, too, jist because you 
are his mither ! ” 

Miss Jenkins often tells me how proud she feels that she had 
so much to do with your early education, as you always studied so 
hard and learned all your lessons so well when you were a small 
boy. The last time I saw her she repeated the story I had almost 
forgotten, how she caught Frank Newcomb in some mischief 
while he was sitting beside you and was about to punish him, when 
you quickly stood up, and told her she ought to punish you too, 
as you deserved it just as much as he did. She said she always 
doubted whether you were as much to blame as you claimed to 
be ; but after you said what you did, she couldn’t punish either 
of you — and she never had any trouble with Frank after that. 
She confidently predicts a successful career for you, whatever bus- 
iness or profession you may enter. 

May — , 187-. — I laid this letter away a few days ago, thinking 


18 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


there might be something more I would want to say to you ; and 
since that time 1 have received a rather lengthy visit from Mr. 
Edwards, our minister. 

The good man has been thinking a great deal about you 
lately, and is . very anxious for you to become a Presbyterian 
minister. 

“ Mrs. Elwood,” he said to me, “ you know how much interest 
I have always felt in Henry, especially since he professed conver- 
sion and joined the church ; and I have thought he would make 
an excellent and useful minister — if he should receive a call to that 
sacred office,” he added after a moment’s pause. 

“Yes, Mr. Edwards,” I said to him in reply, “I have myself 
thought that Henry ought to be a minister, but have not thought it 
best to urge the matter upon him, believing that the choice of that 
profession, if made at all, ought to be made by himself under the 
guidance of the Holy Spirit.” 

“ I agree with you there,” he replied, “and have refrained 
from saying anything to him myself for the same reason ; but now 
that he is about to graduate and must soon make choice of a pro- 
fession, I have felt that if he is indeed called to the ministry, we 
might help him to hear and understand the call.” 

He said all this with so much feeling and in so earnest a tone, 
that I inquired tvhi/ he was so anxious to have you become a min- 
ister, and what reasons he had for thinking you would be more 
useful in that profession than in any other. 

“In the first place,” he replied, “without intending to flatter 
you, Henry has gifts and talents that I think would eminently fit 
him for the ministry In addition to all his mental endowments, 
he has a clear strong voice and a good physical constitution. He 
has already received an excellent collegiate education ; and if he 
could now take a thorough theological course and become well- 
versed in all the doctrines of the church, he would, I firmly 
believe, become a very useful preacher, a workman that needeth 
not to be ashamed.” 

He remained silent a few minutes and then continued: “I 
feel very sad, Mrs. Elwood, about the decay of sound doctrine in 
these latter days, and I sometimes fear it is as great in the church 
and among professors of religion (although I shudder at the 
thought) as it is.in the world ; and I have thought, from my knowl- 
edge of Henry’s character, that he could be depended on to preach 
the doctrines of the Bible whether they were popular or not, and 
that he would stand by the truth whatever it might cost him to do 
so.” 

“ You don’t think Infidelity is increasing?” I asked. 


CHOICE AND CONSECRATION. 


19 


“Not the bold and outspoken infidelity we used to meet,” he 
answered, “but a peculiar indifference to the fundamental doc- 
trines of Christianity, indicating that people do not care whether 
they are true or not. Infidels used to denounce the Bible and 
deny that is the Avord of God ; now they just call it a ‘ good book,’ 
and defy us to prove that there is any more inspiration in it than 
in many other good books. I also fear that a great many church- 
members, whatever reverence they may still have for the book, do 
not recognize its authority as they once did.” 

“ But are not the churches as active as ever in their efforts ^o 
to do good, and are they not very zealous in works of charity and 
benevolence ? ” I here inquired. 

He stopped to think a moment before -'answering, and then 
said : “ I know, Mrs. Elwood, that they are doing a great deal of 
humanitarian Avork ; but hoAV is it possible to accomplish anything 
in the Lord’s vineyard unless you stand upon his truth and refuse 
to be shaken from it? You may have ever so well-built a house ; 
but unless it rests upon a good foundation, it can not stand against 
the rains and storms to Avhich it is exposed. So Ave must have the 
right beliefs and refuse to give them up, else all our efforts to 
serA^e the Master Avill be in vain.” 

“ What particular doctrines do the people appear to be giving 
up?” 1 asked. 

“Alas, nearly all of them, I sometimes fear,” he answered 
with increased seriousness. “They are not only denying that 
there is such a place as hell, but also seem to be losing faith in the 
fundamental doctrines of the Fall and the Atonement ; and from 
the way things are tending, it will not be long until they begin to 
question the divinity of Christ — and after that Ave might as well 
not claim to have any Christianity at all.” 

“To AA'^hat do you attribute this change in the people’s 
beliefs ?” I asked. 

“I hardly know,” he said, “ unless it be due to the prevailing 
worldliness and indifference to spiritual things ; and I even fear 
that the preachers are not as faithful in declaring the whole coun- 
sel of God as they once Avere. They seem too anxious to please 
and satisfy the people, instead of simply delivering their message, 
whether people are satisfied or not. I blame myself for not 
preaching the doctrines of the church more than I do, and 
fear I shall not escape condemnation in the day of judg- 
ment. When I began my ministry I resolved that Avith the divine 
blessing I wonld preach a doctrinal sermon at least once a month, 
but only did so for a year or two, and now I only preach one occa. 
sionally ; in fact,” (in spite of the seriousness with which he spoke 


20 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


he could not help smiling) “ I can hardly tell how long it has been 
since I preached a sermon that was strictly doctrinal. And the 
only excuse I can offer — if a minister of Christ may permit him- 
self to harbor such an excuse — is, that, so far as I know, I preach 
as many doctrinal sermons as any of my brethren in the ministry. 
At the last meeting of our Presbytery we had a discussion on the 
decay of doctrinal preaching in the church, in which nearly all 
the ministers deplored the evil and reproached themselves 
for its existence ; but none of them could assign its cause or pre- 
scribe a satisfactory remedy.” 

“But, Mr. Edwards,” said I, “the people do not accuse you 
of unfaithfulness ; and I have heard several of them say, that you 
ought to have a good vacation an account of the hard work you 
have done and the interest you have manifested in the welfare of 
the community.” 

His face brightened up at this for a moment or two, but soon 
resumed its serious aspect as he replied : “ I am not insensible to 
the approbation of my fellow-men; but it is far more important for 
me to have the approval of my Heavenly Master, and I fear 
I shall not secure this, unless I preach his doctrines more faith- 
fully than I have done.” 

I here suggested to him, that perhaps he was being led in a 
way that he knew not, and that if a minister were faithful to the 
light that was given to him, he would not be condemned. This 
seemed to comfort him a great deal ; and he again began to talk 
about you, repeating his desire to see you enter the ministry, and 
said, if I thought best, he would write to you on the subject him- 
self. I told him I could see no objection to his doing so, and that 
you would certainly be grateful for any counsel or advice he 
might give you. 

1 will not say any thing more to you myself, as this letter is 
already too long ; but as it is from your mother, I know you will 
read it all; and I have full confidence that the same Divine Spirit, 
that inspired and directed the prophets and righteous men of old, 
will now lead you in the right way, and keep you ever true and 
noble and faithful. 

From Your Affectionate Mother, 

. Emma Elwood. 

The mother’s letter was none too long for the young 
man’s perusal. Several times he read it over, frequently 
pausing for reflection ; and at the hour of midnight it was 
still in his hands. 


CHOICE AND CONSECKATION. 


21 


Only in brief outline can we describe the feelings it 
awakened in his breast. All the experiences and associa- 
tions of his childhood came rushing upon his recollection. 
He felt a new appreciation of his parents’ love and sym- 
pathy; and the return 'that he ought to make to the 
mother who still lived was presented to him more clearly 
than he had ever seen it before. 

And as with full heart and moistened eyes he dwelt 
upon these points, there came to him, like a revelation from 
the skies, the realization that the value ol his education 
was not a matter of Rhetoric or Logic, but must be 
proven by the work of his life ; and he saw, as with the 
clearness of the morning light, that whatever benefit 
he might derive from the study of languages or mathe- 
matics or science or history, his success must at last 
depend on h's consecration, perhaps his immolation, 
upon the altar of duty, and his devotion, not to self- 
service, but to the service of others. 

He wrestled with these high thoughts until the near 
approach of morning ; and ther*, with his knees bent on the 
floor and his soul lilted to the heavens above him, he 
prayed most earnestly that he might choose the right 
course and follow it to the end of his days. 

And there came to him a still small voice, almost 
audible, which said, “Amen! and Amen!” 

Say, if you will, O doubters and cavilers, that the sun 
will not shine on the budding flowers — say even that the 
mother will not hear her baby’s cry ; — but do not dare to 
say, that the human soul may not invoke the Wisdom and 
Power of the Highest, and receive an answer to its every 
utterance and every accent ! 

God is; and therefore no man shall ever seek his 
face in vain ! 


CHAPTER III. 

AIMING AND ASPIRING. 

“Father,” said Alice Carroll the morning after the 
interview between Mr. Carroll and Henry Elwood, as 
heretofore narrated, “how long have you been acquain- 
ted with Mr. Elwood ? ” 

“It is about a year since I first met him,” he 
answered, with a slight expression of surprise on his face. 
“ He is one of the College graduates of this year, and I 
consider him a very talented and promising young man.” 

“ Didn’t it seem strange to you, that he should inquire 
about the study of Latin and Greek after he has finished 
his collegiate course?” she again inquired. “ What differ- 
ence does it make to him now what Herbert Spencer may 
think about the dead languages ? He ought to know him- 
self what studies have been most profitable to him.” 

“ I never thought what reasons he had for asking me 
the questions he did ; but I presume the subject of classical 
education was on his mind, and he wanted to get these 
points settled. He is quite a fellow to think and reason 
for himself. ” 

“ He seemed very much interested in the whole sub- 
ject of Education ; perhaps he is preparing his Commence- 
ment address on some educational topic, and wanted all 
the information he could get upon it.” 

“'Very likely, Alice.” 

“ Do you expect to attend the Commencement exer- 
cises this year, father?” 

“ I nearly always do so, but why do you ask?” 


AIMING AND ASPIRING. 


23 


“ I have some curiosity in reference to Mr. Elwood’s 
subject and the kind of an oration he will have, and I also 
think I would like to hear all the Commencement 
addresses this year,” she answered, with a frankness and 
earnestness that quite surprised her father. 

“These graduating orations are generally more inter- 
esting to the speakers and their immediate friends and 
relatives than to any one else,” he replied ; “but I believe 
I shall want to hear Mr. Elwood myself.” 

“Father” — speaking in a much more thoughtful 
tone — “I have have often heard you speak ot the 
teacher’s profession as being so grand and noble, but never 
quite like you did yesterday while you were talking to 
Mr. Elwood.” 

“Why, Alice, I don’t understand you. Did I say 
any thing more to Mr. Elwood than you have heard me 
say to others? ” 

“Perhaps not,” she answered, with the slightest 
color in her face; “but, although I have always wanted 
to be a teacher, I never before so clearly realized how 
noble a profession it is. I lay awake till nearly midnight, 
thinking about all you said to him, and how important it 
would be for me, if I ever became a teacher, to be well 
qualified for the work.” 

“You have another year to study before you gradu- 
ate in the High School, Alice.” 

“Do you think I ought to be satisfied with that?” 
she asked somewhat eagerly, but checking herself, con- 
tinued in a subdued tone: “but this is more of an oppor- 
tunity than most girls have, and I must be grateful for it, 
and improve it as faithfully as possible — after that ” 

“It will be more than a year before ‘after that’ 
comes around, Alice. ” 

As his daughter had never before expressed a desire 
for anything beyond the High School course of study. 


24 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


Mr. Carroll was not quite prepared to respond to her 
newly born aspirations — or to account for them ! 

“I can do a great deal of studying in the course of a 
year,” she answered in a very lively tone; and then more 
seriously: “ you have often spoken of Herbert Spencer’s 
work on ‘ Education ’ as being so desirable a book for 
teachers — do you mean Sunday School teachers too ? 
Do you think I could learn anything from it that would 
help me in teaching my Sunday School class? ” 

“ His chapter on ‘ Moral Education ’ is addressed to 
parents rather than to teachers ; but it contains many 
points that even Sunday School teachers might study with 
profit ; especially his fundamental principle that children 
should be taught to exercise their owm facu’ties upon 
questions of conduct, and should be encouraged, as far as 
possible, to find out for themselves Avhat is right and what 
is WTong. But Sunday School teachers, like all other 
teachers, must find their own way to interest and instruct 
their pupils. You have already found that out, have you 
not? ” 

“Yes,” she replied, wdth a decided glow on her 
face, “and how easy it is to teach them a lesson 
w'^hen they are interested in it. I have such a fine class 
of boys and girls too, and I am becoming more and 
more attached to all of them. I never knew till I began 
teaching in Sunday School what Jesus meant when 
he said that we must be converted and become like 
little children before we can enter the kingdom of 
heaven. It seems to me I learn more from teaching my 
class every Sunday than they can possibly learn from me.” 

Mr. Carroll’s heart thrilled with just pride as he 
listened to these words, although he was accustomed to 
being surprised at the clearness and directness of his 
daughter’s speech. 


CHAPTER IV. 


QUESTIONS AND QUERIES. 

But it is time that some of Elwood’s classmates 
were introduced to the reader. 

Homer Vernon was about the same age as Elwood, 
and had been his room mate during their entire College 
course. Vernon’s parents were Presbyterians of the 
straitest sect — honest, upright and God-fearing. Very 
early in life Homer had been taken to the Sunday School, 
where he had been taught the Shorter Catechism and the 
leading doctrines of the Confession of Faith, as well as 
the rules and principles of a strict morality. Very early 
in life he had been consecrated to the ministry, and 
throughout his College course he had that profession in 
view. He stood second to Pdwood in scholarship, but he 
stood second to no one in industry and faithfulness and in 
purity and uprightness of character. 

Vernon gave very little time to the society of the 
opposite, sex, but still enough to win the affections of Miss 
Clara Martin, daughter of the Methodist minister in Beu- 
lah ; and a short time before this, the vows of love and 
troth had passed between them. 

George Marvel was several years older than Vernon 
and Elwood. He was a member of the Freshman class 
in the spring of i86i, and very early in the summer 
enlisted in the Union army and went through all the 
experiences and vicissitudes of four years’ military service. 
He was a good soldier, shirked no duty, shrank from no 


26 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


danger ; and the members of his Regiment said he might 
easily have secured a Cf’'mmission if he had sought it ; but 
he rose to no higher promotion than that of First (or 
Orderly) Sergeant in his Company. 

During his four years’ service he was noted for the 
interest he took in all his comrades and his willingness to 
do something for them. When they were sick he was 
constant in his efforts to relieve their sufferings and pro- 
mote their comfort. If one of them was tired on the 
march, Marvel was always ready to carry his gun and knap- 
sack. He would divide his last piece of “hard tack” 
with those who were hungry ; and was frequently known 
to go on short rations himself, that he might share with 
comrades, many of whom did not deserve such considera- 
tion at his hands. He spent a great deal of his leisure 
time writing letters for those who could not write, and 
would read the letters they received from home. When 
any of the boys were “ hard up ” for money he would not 
refuse to give or loan them his last dollar. 

That very much of this service was without proper 
judgment and discrimination and therefore without sub- 
stantially good results may easily be asserted ; but Marvel 
was always satisfied, and never seemed to seek for anything 
but the pleasure of doing what he did. 

And as he was with his comrades in the army, so he 
was with his fellow-students when he returned to College 
in two or three years after the close of the war. If they 
were sick, his time was at their disposal, no matter what 
became of his recitations and other College duties. If 
they needed money, his purse was subject to their com- 
mand, although it was seldom he had any money to give 
or loan without becoming himself a borrower. 

And so far as his acquaintance with the people of 
Beulah went, no case of want or distress that came to his 
notice ever failed to secure whatever sympathy and assist- 


QUESTIONS AND QUERIES. 27 

ance he could give, without any consideration of his own 
convenience and interest. 

Very frequently it was made plain (to other people) 
that Marvel’s charity and generosity was none too wisely 
bestowed, and sometimes he received no return but mean- 
ness and ingratitude ; but he himself was in no wise soured 
or discouraged on that account; at any rate he continued 
to give his services wherever they were called for. 

To what extent are men and women justified in 
closing their bowels of compassion against their fellows 
on account of the unworthiness and imposture that prevail 
so widely in the earth ? 

We will not essay to answer this question ; but surely 
no one should be willing to live a life of selfishness 
because, forsooth, he might render service that will not 
yield the result for which he hopes. 

Moreover, it is not for us in all cases — perhaps not in 
most cases — is it in any case? — to say just what the result 
of our service should be ! 

Mark Conklin was about the same age as Marvel, and 
although he had not been in the army, he had had con- 
siderable experience in the world. 

When the war broke out, Conklin began to discuss 
the question whether he ought to become a soldier, but 
was never able to give it a definite answer, at least not 
such an answer as caused him to enlist in the army. He 
felt some sense of duty in the premises, he was very far 
from being destitute of patriotism, and was strongly 
impelled by personal pride to enter the service ; but all 
these considerations were not sufficient to induce a decision 
on his part that he ought to assume the hardships and 
risks of a soldier’s life, although the question was never 
entirely out of his mind. 

This habit of constant interrogation in reference to 
the part he ought to play in the great struggle of the 


28 


HENRY ELWOOD, 


nation got such a hold upon him that it became his fixed 
method in dealing with all the issues of life ; and in 
College he was given the nickname of the “Interrogative 
Case.” Whenever he argued upon any subject it was by 
asking questions ; and in the recitation room he both 
annoyed and amused the Professors by his peculiar and 
persistent queries, not always pertinent to the subject in 
hand, but always more or less interesting, and nearly 
always very suggestive ; and it was generally remarked 
that if he studied at all, he must have some interrogative 
method of study known only to himself! 

His own views on any question were rarely expressed, 
and then with the rising inflection at the end of nearly 
every sentence ; and his purposes in life and the object he 
had in view in going through College were points on 
which he was as silent as the Egyptian Sphinx. 

P^lwood always enjoyed the spice and flavor of Conk- 
lin’s interrogatories ; and notwithstanding the great differ- 
ence in the cast of their minds, there was a considerable 
measure of friendship and association between them during 
their College course. But with Vernon the case was quite 
different. He felt no unfriendliness toward Conklin ; but 
it was very annoying, if not painful, to him to have every 
proposition or opinion incessantly challenged, and that too 
by one who rarely avowed an opinion of his own. 

Vernon wanted to trust in the safety of his fort 
without the test of perpetual bombardment ; he wanted 
to enjoy the comforts of his house without a continual 
examination of its foundations ; he wanted to study and 
acquire knowledge without being bored with an incessant 
analysis and persistent logic that brought no result but a 
wearisome exercise of his ratiocinative faculties. 

But those who please us least do not always have the 
least influence over us ! 

A week or two after the events described in our 


QUESTIONS AND QUERIES. 


29 


former chapters Vernon, Elwood, Marvel and Conklin 
were seated on the grass in the College Campus discussing 
some arrangements about the coming Comencement ; and 
when they were through with this and were about to 
separate, Vernon asked Elwood what he thought of the 
lecture delivered to the students by the President of the 
College a few days before on the “Object of Life,” in 
which he had taken the position that man is placed on the 
earth to glorify God and to do service for others, and had 
enforced that proposition with many pertinent arguments 
and illustrations. 

“I like it exceedingly,” said Elwood; “and I don’t 
think that I ever before so clearly understood the purpose 
for which I was created.” 

“It seems to me,” said Vernon, “that the subject 
was treated in a masterly manner; and I do not see how 
any one who believes the Bible and believes there is a 
God can doubt that the object of our lives is what he said 
it was.” 

“How do you know that we have been placed here 
for any purpose at all?” said Conklin, turning his keen 
eyes toward them and looking at both intently. 

Vernon could not conceal his impatience at the inter- 
ruption ; and Elwood was more surprised than he had 
ever been before by any of Conklin’s interrogatories. 

“Not placed here for any purpose at all, exclaimed 
Elwood, “that would be contrary to reason as well as 
the Bible! ” 

“We might as well deny that there is a God as to 
deny that he had a purpose in placing us on the earth I ” 
said Vernon, in a very positive tone. 

“Very well, then,” continued Conklin, “how do 
you know that was his purpose?” 

“The Bible teaches that very clearly,” said they both 
in the same breath. 


30 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“And how do you know that the Bible is correct, 
even if it does teach what you claim?” was next asked. 

‘ ‘O, if you are going to deny the Bible, what is the 
use of arguing the point?” said Vernon, very seriously. 

‘‘And besides what the Bible says,” said Elwood, 
with perceptible earnestness, “what else could man have 
been created for? Surely no other object” — was he 
thinking of his mother’s letter as he spoke? — “could be 
so noble and so grand ! ” 

“All which you can doubtless prove by Marvel,” 
replied Conklin. “Say, Marvel, you have been serving 
other people all your life, what proof can you furnish to 
sustain Elwood’s proposition? What have you to show 
for all your acts of love and mercy — eh?” 

“I really don’t know, ” -said Marvel, a little non- 
plused; “but I have no regrets for anything I have done 
or tried to do for others. I have generally done what I 
felt like doing without troubling myself about the results.” 

“And are you certain that you have done people any 
good with all your efforts ? Perhaps you have done them 
more harm than good ? ” 

Marvel made no reply to this, but looked at his 
threadbare coat long enough to reflect that the money 
with which he had intended to purchase a new one, he 
had but a day or two before loaned to one of the younger 
students to repair the damage he had done one of the 
College buildings while out on a frolic a few nights 
previous. 

, “And besides,” continued Conklin, “if you think 
the great object in life is to do good to others, why didn’t 
you get at it years ago instead of spending four precious 
years poring over text-books and playing schoolboy 
generally for the benefit of our worthy and learned 
Professors ? ” 

“We are here,” said Vernon, with impatience bor- 


QUESTIONS AND QUEKIES. 


- 31 


dering on disgust, “to prepare ourselves for usefulness ; 
and if we have not improved our opportunities, we have 
none but ourselves to blame.” 

“And are you any better prepared than when you 
began your course?” said Conklin, directing a twinkle 
toward Elwood. 

“ I guess you won’t permit any question to be settled, 
Conklin,” said Elwood, rising up and turning his face 
toward his room; “you won’t let us make anything out 
of the Universe but an everlasting Interrogation Point.” 

“Can you prove that it is anything else?” quickly 
broke in Conklin. 

“Whatever question you may raise,” replied Elwood 
in a voice so firm and clear that Conklin put in no more 
interrogatories, “as surely as the Beulah river was made 
to carry its waters to the sea, and as surely as the sun was 
made to give light to the earth, so surely our lives have a 
meaning and a purpose ; and if we devote our best gifts 
and talents to the service of others, we shall not live in 
vain ! ” 

Was there a vision of Alice Carroll’s face and form 
before him as he said this? 


CHAPTER V. 


FEARS AND FOREBODINGS. 

The year 187- was the fiftieth anniversary of Beulah 
College ; and arrangements were being made to celebrate 
the occasion with appropriate exercises during Commence- 
ment week. A large attendance of the Alumni from the 

State of X and other States was promised ; and it was 

confidently expected that the various addresses to be 
delivered would be of an unusually high character. 

Dr. Josiah Goodway had been connected with the 
Faculty for nearly thirty years, during the last twenty of 
which he had served as President of the institution. Both 
in the capacity of President and that of Professor he had 
given complete satisfaction to the Board of Trustees, and 
had won an enviable reputation as teacher and administra- 
tor. His Baccalaureate sermons, especially, were noted 
for their “soundness,” as well as for their learning and 
profound thought, and were frequently published in both 
the secular and the religious newspapers, accompanied 
with the high commendations which editors and reporters 
are wont to bestow on public speakers — when they are so 
minded ! 

It should be stated in this connection that no taint or 
suspicion of religious heres)’’ had ever attached itself to 
any of the Professors or Tutors of the College. 

Two or three days after Dr. Goodway began the prep- 
aration of this year’s Baccalaureate, which was to be 
delivered to the graduating class on the Sunday morning 


FEARS AND FOREBODINGS. 


33 


preceding the Commencement exercises, his wife noticed 
that his appetite was not quite as hearty as usual, that his 
sleep was a little disturbed, and that there was a slight 
nervousness in his general air and manner, 

Mrs. Goodway’s quick eye also divined that the pres- 
sure on the Doctor’s mind was from some cause in addition 
to the ordinary cares of Ms office ; and as they were sit- 
ting in his study in the evening, she said to him very 
sympathetically: “Josiah, my dear, isn’t there something 
on your mind that troubles you? You have not had any 
difficulty with the students or a misunderstanding with 
any of the Professors?” 

“Why, no, Hannah,” was his quick reply : “ the boys 
have given us no serious trouble for a long time ; and we 
are all working harmoniously at the preparations for Com- 
mencement; but” — he added, after a moment’s pause, 
during which he looked her steadily in the face — “ I must 
confess that I am seriously worried about my Baccalau- 
reate. ” 

“Your Baccalaureate?” she answered, in a tone of 
decided surprise; “you have never had any difficulty in 
preparing your Baccalaureate discourses ; and they have 
always been very able ones, and very acceptable too ! ” 

The Doctor’s face relaxed a little — he was not too old 
to relish this encomium from the wife he loved and hon- 
ored — but he answered in the same serious tone: “I can 
hardly tell why it is ; but this Baccalaureate has already 
cost me more thought and anxiety than any one, or even 
all, that I have previously preached.” 

“It is not because you expect so many of the 
Alumni and other visitors, ?” she said, with a little irony 
in her tone. 

“No; that is rather an encouragement and inspira- 
tion ; nothing could give me more pleasure than to meet 
my old graduates and preach to them again,” 


34 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“ Is there any reason why it should be harder to pre- 
pare an address to the graduates of this year than to those 
of other years?” 

“Ido not quite see why there should be,” he 
answered very thoughtfully. ‘ ‘ I have become better 
acquainted with these boys than with the members of any 
class since I became President of the College, and I think 
I have felt a greater interest in them. It certainly ought 
not to be harder to address them than other classes.” 

“ Perhaps your better acquaintance with these young 
men” — her clearness of tone quite surpri'^ed the Doctor — 
“makes you the more anxious to give them an address 
that will be suited to them, and one that they will always 
remember.” 

“Yes, Hannah,” he answered very slowly, “and 
there seems to be such a variety of character among them. 
Although the war has been over for several years, it 
appears to have had a great influence upon the lives and 
characters of our young men. It has made a change 
that I do not clearly understand; but I am certain there 

has been a very great change ” and here Dr. Good way 

paused and remained silent for several minutes. 

Before the conversation was resumed by either of 
them, the doorbell rang — and Professor Ironsides was 
invited into the room. 

As soon he had shaken hands with the Doctor and 
Mrs. Goodway, he said in a rather heavy tone; “Dr. 
Goodway, late as the hour is, I could not resist the incli- 
nation to have a talk with you about our graduates ol this 
year. We have certainly never sent out a class concerning 
whom I have felt so much anxiety.” 

The Doctor and his wife looked at each other very 
intently for a moment or two ; and as the Doctor showed 
no readiness to respond, Mrs. Goodway presently said : 
“Professor, have not the Faculty always considered this 


FEARS AND FOREBODINGS. 


35 


an unusually talented and promising class ? ” The Doctor 
has frequently expressed himself to that effect. 

“Butin times like these,” answered the Professor 
very solemnly, “something more than talents and scholar- 
ship is necessary ; and, as I said, I can not help feeling 
anxious about some of them. I have grave fears, which 
I am very reluctant to express, that they may not always 
stand firm in the orthodox faith.” 

“Whom do you refer to?” asked Dr. Good way a 
little nervously — “not Elwood — nor Vernon — nor ” 

As the Doctor seemed to pause at this point for a 
reply, the Professor continued: “I have no fears con- 
cerning Vernon. His orthodoxy is of the most positive 
type ; and I feel confident that after he becomes a min- 
ister, he will prove one of the most steadfast defenders of 
the faith to be found in our church.” 

“Elwood? ’’again inquired the Doctor. His tone 
was a very hesitating one, but it caused Mrs. Goodway to 
await the Professor’s answer very intently. 

“ Prof. Ironsides did not notice this, but paused two 
or three minutes before speaking, and then said very 
slowly : “I can not say that I have any definite or positive 
fears concerning Elwood ; still it often happens that the 
most promising young fellows make shipwreck of faith. 
While Elwood seems very earnest and devoted in reference 
to all his religious duties, he has also manifested a peculiar 
independence that might some day lead him astray.” 

“ From what acquaintance I have with him he seems 
like a very nob'e and pious young man,” responded Mrs. 
Goodway, with some warmth. 

“You can not admire his character and piety more 
than I do,” responded the Professor, in a somewhat apolo- 
getic tone ; and I trust that any apprehensions I may have 
about him are entirely without foundation ; but what pains 


36 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


me most is that there should be such a tendency to free- 
thinking among the students generally,” 

“ Do you think this tendency prevails to a serious 
extent?” asked Dr. Goodway, a little anxiously. “What 
special signs of it do you see? ” 

“They don’t say much,” was the answer; “ but I can 
see it very plainly in their manner of treating all religious 
questions. There certainly is not that reverence for the 
authority of the Scriptures and that implicit acceptance of 
evangelical doctrines that we used to see among the stu- 
dents. And I have noticed during the recitations on the 
Evidences of Christianity, that there was a disposition on 
the part of some to treat the whole matter as still an open 
question, and that even some of our ministerial students 
seemed to think that the proof from miracle and prophecy 
was not altogether clear. On one occasion, when I thought 
I had shown that the miracles wrought by Christ and his 
Apostles furnished the most conclusive proof of the truth 
and divine origin of Christianity, some member of the 
class, whose name I can not now recall, remarked that he 
could not why it was necessary for the Almighty to violate 
or set aside his laws in order to reveal his word ; and 
before I had time to answer this, Mark Conklin, in his 
peculiar tone, asked how we could tell, with our limited 
knowledge of Nature’s laws, that Christ and his Apostles 
ever violated or set aside any of them — even if we should 
believe every thing that is told us by the writers of the 
New Testament ! ” 

“What answer did you make to that?” asked Dr. 
Goodway, in a tone indicating that he could not entirely 
help enjoying the Professor’s account of his discomfiture. 

“ Well, you know how hard it sometimes is to answer 
Conklin’s queries the way he puts them ; and as the hour 
for recitation was about up, I told the class to read their 
Bibles thoughtfully and prayerfully, and they would find 


FEARS AND FOREBODINGS. 


37 


sufficient evidence of the inspiration of the book as well 
as its spiritual profit to us.” 

“You could not have given them better advice than 
that,” remarked Mrs. Goodway, in ayery encouraging tone. 

The Professor was gratified at this — breathes there a 
man on the face of the earth who ddes not enjoy 
the sincere commendation of a woman he respects? — but he 
made no sign, except a slight smile, and then responded : 
“Of course, Mrs. Goodway, we rely on these internal 
evidences to make the foundations of our faith complete ; 
but it is with the most serious concern that I notice a dis- 
position on the part of our students to treat the miracles 
and prophecies so lightly.” 

“There seems to be such a tendency in the public 
mind also, at least I have thought that such is the case,” 
said Dr. Goodway ; “but have we not good reason to 
believe, that if less attention is paid to the external evi- 
dences of Christianity, the internal evidences are appre- 
ciated more highly than ever before ? ” 

“ I hope you are right about that,” responded the 
Professor, with a little more light in his face; “still I shall 
tremble for the fate of our holy religion, if the time ever 
comes that the people lose all faith in miracles and 
prophecies.” 

“Do you think there is danger of that?” asked the 
Doctor. 

“I sincerely trust not; but who can tell how far we 
shall go in the direction we are now tending? ” was the 
response. “ Many of our ministers have practically ceased 
to preach the distinctive doctrines of Calvinism ; and I 
would not be surprised to see a demand for a revision of 
our Confession of Faith before the close of this century ! 
And if they once begin to revise the Westminster Con- 
fession and Catechism, they will next deny the ‘ iner- 
rancy ’ of the Scriptures — where will it all end. Dr. 


38 


HENKY ELWOOD. 


way ? Is there not something to be done by us to pro- 
tect the students whom we graduate from year to year 
from the blighting influence of Rationalism and Infidelity?’ 

“I quite agree with you,” answered the Doctor, 
“that our young men should be well fortified in their relig- 
ious faith, and be prepared, as fully as we can possibly 
prepare them, for the work of their lives ; and just before 
you came in I was talking to Mrs. Good way about the kind 
of a Baccalaureate sermon I ought to preach this year, I 
am by no means free from solicitude concerning the mem- 
bers of this class ; but I trust that the Spirit of all truth 
will not forsake them, and that the ark of the Divine cove- 
will always abide in our College.” 

“I hope you are right,” Prof. Ironsides answered a 
little more cheerfully as he rose to depart ; “ and I trust 
the Lord will enable you to preach to the graduating class 
in such a manner as to guard them from all doubt and 
error ; for there will be many departures from the true 
faith, unless something is done to check the tide of skep- 
ticism and unbelief that threatens to sweep over our land.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


INTEREST AND INFLUENCE. 

Prof. Ironsides returned to his home, and was soon 
sleeping the sleep of the just; but Dr. Goodway and his 
wife still sat in their chairs, their minds occupied with the 
conversation of the evening. 

Mrs. Goodway was the first to speak : “ Yoil have no 
such fears for the future of Christianity as Prof. Ironsides, 
have you, Josiah?” 

“I have too much faith in the divine wisdom and 
goodness to take such a gloomy view of the situation,” he 
answered very thoughtfully; “but at the same time, I 
must recognize the fact that the foundations of our faith 
are being seriously assailed by the rationalism and mate- 
rialism of the day. I have always regarded Education as 
the handmaid of Religion; but I can not help seeing that 
there is at least some tendency in all studies — especially in 
physical science — to lead the minds of young men away 
from spiritual things and make them more or less 
skeptical. Our responsibility is certainly very serious.” 
And then the Doctor looked into her face, as if anxious 
for any advice or counsel she might have to give him. 

“ After, a short pause, Mrs. Goodway said in a very 
serious tone: “ Don’t you think it would be an excellent 
thing for your students, religiously and otherwise, for you 
to admit young women to the College?” 

Very great was the Doctor’s surprise as he responded : 
“I never heard you speak in favor of co-education before, 


40 


JIENRY ELWOOD. 


Hannah ; and I have always supposed, from your ideas of 
‘ woman’s sphere,’ that you were opposed to it. What 
has occurred to change your mind or interest you in the 
subject? ” 

“Ido not think you ever heard me say anything 
directly against it, did you?” she answered, with a little 
color; “but I will confess that my interest in the subject 
has been awakened by a talk I had only day before yester- 
day with Alice Carroll and Blanche Jordan, as I met them 
on the street.” 

Here the Doctor’s face assumed a look of perfect 
astonishment, but he said nothing ; and presently 
Mrs. Goodway continued : ‘ ‘ Blanche has worked 

very hard the past two or three years, having 
had most of the care of the house on her hands since 
her mother’s health failed ; and yet in in some way she 
has managed to keep up with her classes in the public 
school ; and you know, Josiah, how much I have been 
attached to Alice, ever since she was a baby, and espec- 
ially since her mother’s death.” 

“ Did they tell you they wanted to enter College ?” 
asked the Doctor, a little playfully. 

“Blanche didn’t say a word herself,” was the rather 
slow response; “and nearly all that Alice said was to 
express the wish that Beulah College would open its doors 
to young women as many other Colleges are doing. As 
I said to you, Blanche said nothing, but her looks showed 
very plainly how much she would like to take the College 
course if she could have the .opportunity ; and as soon as 
I left them, I resolved to speak to you about it at the first 
good opportunity.” 

Mrs. Goodway’s voice by this time had become quite 
eloquent — although she knew it not ! 

“ Did the girls see what an impression they made on 
you?” asked the Doctor, in the same playful tone. 


INTEREST AND INFLUENCE. 


41 


“I don’t suppose they did; but you know Alice 
always makes a strong impression on one’s mind when 
she is interested in any subject; and I never saw her 
show more interest and enthusiasm in reference to any- 
thing than she did on this occasion. If I had been as 
much opposed to co-education as you seemed to think I 
was, one look into her face, as she spoke, would have 
changed my opinion — at least so far as she and Blanche 
are concerned.” 

“I confess,” said the Doctor, in reply, “ that I sym- 
pathize with any young woman who desires a collegiate 
education ; but I have never yet come to a conclusion on 
the question whether co-education would be the wiser 
policy for our College. Some of the Trustees, I know, 
are opposed to it, while others are disposed to watch the 
experiment at other Colleges before taking any action 
upon it. But what makes you think such a change would 
have any effect upon the religious faith of the young 
men ?” 

Mrs. Goodway was at considerable loss for an answer 
to this; but, after some reflection, she slowly replied : “I 
do not know that it would have any influence upon their 
belief in the doctrines of the church ; but, as women are 
more religious than men, it seems to me that the associa- 
tion with pious young women would make the young men 
more religious and less skeptical — at any rate” (speaking 
with more assurance in her tone) “it would have a 
a good influence upon their moral characters.” 

“ That might be the case, if all the girls who would 
enter the College were religious ; but you would hardly 
expect that, Hannah ? ” 

“Certainly not; but such girls as Alice and Blanche, 
so far as their influence might go, would certainly cause 
the boys to be more studious and also more religious.” 

“I believe,” said the Doctor, “they claim that at 


42 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


Oberlin and other Colleges where both sexes are admitted, 
the pupils are all more studious than either sex would be, 
if they were separated.” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Goodway, very emphatically, 
“Alice Carroll ought to have the advantages of a colle- 
giate education — and so ought Blanche Jordan.” 

“ But all young women are not as capable of taking 
the course as they are, Hannah.” 

“Neither are all young men as talented and prom- 
ising as Henry Elwood ” — here Mrs. Goodway paused in 
in her discourse, as if she had a thought on her 
mind that she knew not how to express, but presently 
resumed in an undertone — “somehow, Josiah, for some 
time past, Alice’s name has been associated in my mind 
with young Elwood’s. He passed us while we were talking 
on the street ; and although -he only raised his hat and 
bowed, she immediately made some remark about the 
coming Commencement exercises, in a tone that clearly 
indicated her expectation of attending and the interest she 
felt in the addresses to be delivered.” 

“You surely have no basis for prophesying in ihis 
case, Hannah. Elwood has still to prepare himself for his 
profession, and I doubt whether he has even a speaking 
acquaintance with her.” 

“Alice told me she had met him only once; but I 
am certain he would greatly admire her, if he knew her as 
well as well as we do, Josiah, especially if she had the 
opportunity to take a collegiate course of study.” 

“As the Doctor made no answer to this, Mrs. Good- 
way very soon continued; “Josiah, I almost believe, that 
if Alice were permitted to go before the Trustees of the 
College and ask for admission to its privileges, they 
could not refuse her! ” 


Two or three weeks previous to the Commence- 


INTEREST AND INFLUENCE. 


43 


merit exercises Elwood wrote the following letter to 
his mother : 


My Dear Mother ; 


Beulah College, June — , 187-. 


I hope you will not think me forgetful or ungrateful because 
of my delay in answering your very precious letter ; for if I ever 
appreciated all that you have done for me, it has been during the 
past few weeks, and especially since I received your letter. 

Tell Mrs. Maloney that I only did what I ought to have done 
when I rescued Maggie from drowning last winter. I do not want 
her to feel under any special obligations to me. 

Thanks to Miss Jenkins for her generous prophecies concerning 
my future. While I can not promise that they shall all be real- 
ized, I hope she will never be ashamed to confess that she was my 
teacher during so many of the years of my boyhood. 

For several days previous to receiving your letter I had been 
engaged in preparing my Commencement oration. I at first thought 
I could set forth the superior advantages of the classical course in 
the most convincing terms : but as soon as my work was done I 
found it very unsatisfactory ; and all subsequent reflection has 
caused me to realize that all branches of study are only to be esti- 
mated as means of preparation for usefulness and service to 
others. I have been greatly aided in coming to this conclusion 
by a conversation I had with Supt. Carroll, of the Beulah public 
schools, and also by a lecture delivered to the students by Dr. 
Goodway, in which he showed that the true ooject of life consists 
in serving others without reference to any direct reward for our- 
selves. 

All this has been a very severe exercise of mind to me, but I 
hope a valuable one. I shall make very little change in the title 
of my address ; but it will be very different from the one I first 
wrote. It will certainly be more modest in tone, and more 
becoming a young man of my age and experience. 

Mother, I am fully persuaded that it is my duty to enter the 
Christian ministry, although I realize the great weight of its duties 
and responsibilities. Your letter had a very important influence 
in bringing me to this decision ; and two or three days later I 
received one from Mr. Edwards, which more fully confirmed me 
in my convictions as to my proper course. Please give him my 
thanks for his friendly interest and confidence, and tell him that I 
hope he will never be disappointed in me. 

Dr. Goodway was very much rejoiced w’hen I told him the 
decision I had made, and said he had the fullest confidence that 


44 


HENRY ELWOOP. 


the Holy Spirit had directed my choice. He also expressed his 
firm belief that the Lord would bless my ministry and make 
it the means of great usefulness, if I proved faithful. 

He spoke this last sentence in so serious a tone, that I quickly 
answered, “ I hope I shall always be faithful. Dr. Goodway ! ” 

He colored a little at this; but immediately continued, in the 
most cordial tone: “ I did not speak thus, El wood, from any lack 
of confidence in your integrity or your Christian character, but 
because 1 appreciate the great difficulties preachers will encounter 
for many years to come, and because I realize how much they 
will need divine grace to combat the evils of skepticism and world- 
liness, as well as the vice and immorality by which they are sur- 
rounded.” 

Prof. Ironsides called at our room a few nights since and had a 
talk with Vernon and me in reference to our future work. He is 
very much concerned aobut the doctrines of the church, and fears 
that both ministers and laymen are becoming ‘‘ unsound.” 
Although he addressed his remarks to both of us, I fancied I 
could see something in his looks and tone indicating that he was 
much more concerned about me than about Vernon — but I may 
have been mistaken in this opinion. 

Two or three days afterward I had a second rather lengthy 
interview with Mr. Carroll, who, 1 forgot to tell you, is a member 
of the Episcopal church in Beulah, in which I asked him if he 
thought there was any danger of Christianity’s losing its hold of 
the public mind, or of the people’s becoming unbelievers in its doc- 
trines. 

He smiled as he answered : ” I have no fears of that kind as 
long as the ministers of the various churches are equal to the 
demands of their office. Of course, there will be many nice points 
for them to decide in reference to what they believe, and also as to 
what they shall preach ; but no doctrine that is true will suffer 
while men and and women are honestly and seriously thinking 
about it! In fact, ” he added, “the truth that there is in all 
Christian doctrines ” — I did not ask him just what he meant by 
this phrase — “ will be made clearer and brighter, the more they are 
analyzed and examined — and studied inductively.” 

From which you can see that Mr. Carroll takes a much more 
encouraging view in reference to the future of Christianity and its 
doctrines than Prof. Ironsides does — is he not right ? 

From Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Eewood. 

P. S. As I am writing to my mother, I may mention the fact, 
that Mr. Carroll’s daughter Alice was present during my two inter- 


INTEREST AND INFLUENCE. 


45 


views with him and manifested the most lively interest in all that 
he said both in reference to education and to Christian doctrines — 
and although this is all the acquaintance I have had with her, 
whenever I think about our Commencement exercises, I can not 
help wondering whether she will be one of our audience. 

H. E. 


CHAPTER VII. 


GRACE AND GRIT, 

It was the Sunday preceding Commencement day at 
Beulah College ; and the beautiful and commodious Pres- 
byterian church- was crowded with an audience of men 
and women desiring to hear the Baccalaureate sermon ot 
Dr. Goodway, 

Is there a public speaker beneath the sun whose soul 
is not inspired, in greater or less measure, by the expecta- 
tions of his audience? 

Much more (rather much less) than human must Dr. 
Goodway have been to have had no feeling of pride or 
self-consciousness in his breast as he sat upon the platform 
and looked out upon the sea of human faces before him. 

And yet it was noticed that the most prominent 
expression upon his countenance was that of seriousness ; 
although no one in the audience, except his wife, knew 
how much thought and anxiety and loss of sleep the 
preparation of his address had cost him. 

What living preacher has not found his highest and 
best efforts to be the fruit of humiliation and self-sacrifice ? 

Was there not profound meaning in the prayer so 
often uttered by the itinerant preachers of our land : 
“Lord, let thy servant hide himself behind the cross as 
he preaches to-day ! ” 

Doctor Goodway’s delivery was pitched upon a key 
but little above the conversational tone, for the intense 
interest he felt in his students and his subject had brought 


GRACE AND GRIT. 


47 


him to the feet of Nature ; and although he lacked many 
of the external gifts and graces of oratory, his singleness 
of desire and purpose triumphed over all obstacles 
and secured the closest attention of his entire audience. 

The “ oratorical ” style of the most eloquent speakers 
must not claim our attention for too long a time ; the 
sweetest strains of the sweetest singers must charm us by 
their brevity ; but sympathetic conversation is the bread 
and water of life of which we never grow weary ! 

The preliminary services being concluded, to the sur- 
prise of every one, instead of announcing a text and dis- 
playing a roll of manuscript, he read from the first book 
of Samuel the account of the slaying of Goliath by the 
shepherd boy,- David. The simple and earnest manner of 
his reading excited the lively interest of his hearers, and 
caused a vivid panorama of the event to pass before their 
mental vision. It was “an old, old story” to most of 
them ; but although there were present a large number 
of ministers and theologians as well as laymen versed in 
the Scriptures, they all listened as to a new narration. 

After briefly describing the condition of the children 
of Israel and the seriousness of their situation in the 
presence of Goliath and the army of the Philistines, he 
pictured young David as offering to go forth alone to meet 
this terrible giant ; his laying aside the King’s armor, not 
in a spirit of afifectatiun or foolhardiness, but that he might 
have the more certain and effective use of his own powers ; 
his selection of his own weapons; his running to meet his 
enemy; his directness of aim at the giant’s forehead; and 
his complete triumph over one who had so long defied the 
armies of the Living God ! 

Then he proceeded to give a few words of earnest 
exhortation to the class, closing with this passage; 

“M\' young friends, let me urge you to cherish and 
cultivate the spirit and valor of David ; for like him you 


48 


HENKY ELWOOD. 


will have giants to fight both within and without ; giants 
that stand directly before you and defy you to mortal 
combat. You must meet the giant of Selfishness, the 
giant of Intemperance, the giant of Avarice, the giant 
of Materialism, the giant of Doubt, and many others 
whose name is legion. You may trust in the same God 
in whom David trusted ; but you must also exercise your 
own strength, your own valor and your own skill. I 
would have you lean upon the divine arm. for help ; but I 
would also have your own arms stretched forth as David’s 
were against his haughty and well-nigh invincible foe. Be 
full of divine grace, but also be full of human grit ! ” 

“Were you not greatly surprised?” said Vernon 
to Elwood as they sat in their room in the afternoon. 
“Didn’t you expect a longer and more learned discourse ? ” 

“I was surprised both at the matter and manner of 
his address,” Elwood responded; “but I have noticed for 
several weeks past that Dr. Goodway has been very much 
interested in our class, and has seemed to desire a more 
intimate acquaintance with us. I shall feel the influence 
of his sermon as long as I live.” 

“I hope, too,” said Vernon, “it will have a good 
effect upon the skeptical and deistical members of our 
class and cause them to see how firm a basis our Christian 
faith rests upon. I don’t see how any one can read this 
narrative without seeing how the Lord sustained David in 
this conflict and without believing in the truth of the Old 
Testament; and when we look at the miracles wrought by 
Christ and his Apostles, what a firm foundation we have 
lor the New Testament. And yet Dr. Goodway spoke of 
the giant of Doubt as one we would have to fight ! ” 

“Perhaps,” .said P^lwood, in response, “he had in 
mind the works of Renan, Strauss, Huxley and others, 


GRACE AND GRIT. 


49 


that have caused so much doubt about everything of a 
miraculous nature.” 

Just then there was a rap at the door, and in response 
to a “Come in” from Elwood, Mark Conklin entered 
the room, with the usual interrogative expression upon 
his countenance. 

“You have been discussing Dr. Goodway’s sermon — 
eh?” he said, in his drollest tone, as he poised himself on 
a chair near the window and placed his feet on the 
window sill. 

“Yes, we have,” said Elwood; “and we would like 
very much to have your opinion of it — if possible.” 

“What if that little circumstance never happened ? ” 
he said, turning his bright eyes first to one and then the 
other. “ Why didn’t the learned Doctor establish the fact 
before making such a solemn appeal to us to follow 
David’s example ? What terrible giants does he 'suppose 
any of us will ever have to fight?” 

“Of course,” said Vernon, “we do not know what 
giants we will have to meet ; but we must expect more or 
less conflict with the powers of evil ; and I think the Doc- 
tor was anxious to prepare us for the struggle. The Bible 
speaks of the Christian life as a constant warfare ; and 
perhaps the giants that we least expect” — was Vernon 
suddenly and unconsciously endued with the spirit of 
prophecy? — “are the very ones that will come in our 
way and defy us to mortal combat.” 

“ You do not fear the giant of Doubt, of which the 
Doctor spoke, do you, Vernon?” asked his interrogator. 
“You would run to meet him without providing yourself 
with a sling and stones, wouldn’t you? ” 

Vernon made no reply to this, except to shrug his 
shoulders and open a book lying near him on the table 
with manifest impatience; but Conklin seeing he had 
Elwood’s ear, went on: “Shouldn’t the Doctor have 


50 


HENRY ELAVOOD. 


advised us to read Don Quixote so as not to waste our 
time and breath in fighting windmills and other imaginary- 
giants? And shouldn’t he have told us what weapons we 
are to use in fighting that awful giant of Doubt?” 

“ What better weapons could any one ask than prayer 
and reading the Bible?” asked Vernon, slowly raising his 
eyes from the book he was trying to read. 

“ Prayer ?” exclaimed Conklin. “Would you pray 
that you may not doubt something whether it be true or 
not ? What fine progress the world would make in science 
and philosophy, if every one would turn out and fight the 
giant of Doubt with prayer and reading the Bible?” 

Vernon made no answer to this, except a look of 
annoyance and weariness, and Elwood presently con- 
tinued: “I don’t believe that we should pray to be 
delivered from all doubt; but I do believe that our doubts 
should- be controlled in some measure at least by our 
reason, and that we may pray to be led into the truth ; 
and as to fighting the giants, isn’t that what we have to do 
every day? What have we been doing here in College 
the last four years but fighting the giant of Ignorance?” 

“And what victories have any of us to report to 
date?” asked Conklin. “ How much wiser are we than 
when we began our course? Won’t we all have to 
unlearn the little we have learned while here before we can 
enter upon practical life — if we ever do enter upon it?” he 
added with a twinkle. “Why should we be so valiant 
anyhow ? Are not most of the ‘ giants ’ in our way mere 
ghosts that will vanish just as soon as we pay no attention 
to them ? And as to the real giants, if there are any 
such, wouldn’t it be well to remember that ‘discretion is 
the better part of valor,’ and keep well out of their way? 
Suppose David had missed Goliath’s forehead and been 
trampled under his feet — would Dr. Goodway have 


GRACE AND GRIT. 


51 


sounded the young man’s praises so loudly and held him 
before us as a shining example?” 

All these questions were uttered in a very slow man- 
ner, and with a pause of a minute or two at the end of 
each one. 

When he was through, Elwood responded: “But 
he didn’t miss his aim ; and the very lesson the Doctor 
urged upon us was that we should fight skillfully as well 
as bravely. You must admit, Conklin, that life is largely 
made up of contest and conflict. What an amount of 
struggling mankind have to go through in order to over- 
come hunger and cold and disease and secure even a com- 
fortable physical existence.” 

“ ‘And what glorious success they are having, 
especially in our large cities,’ why don’t you add?” was 
the resDonse. “Say, Elwood,” he continued after a 
pause of a few moments, “how long will it take at the 
present rate of progress to usher in the glorious ‘ Millen- 
nium ’ that the preachers and reformers have so much to 
say about? And when the people are all converted to 
Christianity and have all their wants supplied, will they be 
happier than they now are?” 

Can Henry Elwood enjoy the spice and flavor of 
Conklin’s interminable queries and yet hold fast to the 
reality of the Christian faith and the worth of human life ? 

Certainly, Conklin is having no influence on Vernon — 
of which the latter is conscious ! 

At the hour the above conversation was in progress 
in Elwood and Vernon’s room, Mrs. Goodway was bestow- 
ing on her husband her warmest approval of his Bacca- 
laureate and assuring him that it was very acceptable to 
all his auditors. 

“ I could see,” she said to him, “that the graduating 
class listened to you very intently, and I don’t believe 
they will ever forget it.” 


52 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“I actually trembled when I first began to speak,” 
he answered; “but I soon saw that the boys were very 
much interested ; and their attention was so inspiring that 
I hardly thought of anything but the message I wanted 
to give them.” 

“And did you notice how interested Alice Carroll 
and Blanche Jordan were?” 

A look of peculiar surprise was Dr. Goodway’s 
answer to this inquiry; and then Mrs. Goodway pro- 
ceeded : ‘ ‘ But they sat so far back, that perhaps you 

didn’t observe whether they were listening to you or not. 
But, if you had noticed Alice’s face while you were speak- 
ing, you wouldn’t be surprised at my question. Blanche 
was interested, too, but she didn’t show it in her face like 
Alice.” 

The Doctor colored slightly, but quickly answered: 
“Yes, Hannah, I did notice Alice’s interest very soon 
after I began to speak, and it continued to increase to the 
end of my discourse. She seemed to have such a clear 
appreciation of my subject and of everything I said. I 
almost thought she comprehended my ideas more clearly 
than I did myself.” [Know you not, O, Dr. Goodway, 
that Heaven often gives the opposite sex this highest, 
divinest faculty?] 

“You couldn’t refuse consent to her admission 
to the College, could you, Josiah?” she asked very pleas- 
antly, but seriously. 

“Well, well, we will wait till the question comes 
before us anyhow! ” he answered. 

“I wish very much, that Henry Elwood would get 
well acquainted with her before he graduates and leaves 
Beulah I ” she said, with considerable emphasis in her 
tone. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES. 

Elwood’s “ Valedictory Oration ” was, as he promised 
his mother it would be, “more modest in tone” than the 
one he first prepared ; but it revealed what the first one 
did not, a considerable reserve of moral and intellectual 
force in its author. His clearness of utterance secured the 
closest attention of his audience — among whom he did not 
fail to notice Mr. Carroll and Alice — and at the close of 
the eKercises he received the warmest congratulations of 
his friends and acquaintances. 

It could not be expected that a young man of twenty- 
two would indulge no self-consciousness whate^'er upon 
such an occasion ; but Elwood was, at least, comparatively 
free from it; and if ev'er a College graduate returned to 
his home fully charged with a sense of duty and responsi- 
bility, it was he. 

On Christmas day following he wrote to his mother : 

Union Thkoi.ogicai> Seminary, ^ 
New York, Dec. 25, 187-. J 

My Dear Mother : 

I must improve the leisure I have to-day to answer the letter 
I received from you a few days ago. 

I was very glad to have you write so much about the people in 
Arcadia. It almost seems to me that I never got acquainted with 
any of them, until I went home last summer after graduating. 
How friendly they all seemed, and what a generous and hearty 
interest they all manifested m my future success! If I ever 
felt vain or “stuck up” because I was a College student, I was 
certainly ashamed of it while I was at home. 


54 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


I was not much surprised to hear of Frank Newcomb’s death, 
as I did not expect he would live through the v/inter when I left 
home. The last thing he said to me was, “ How I w)sh I could live 
to hear you preach, Henry ! ” 

Y'ou are, no doubt, anxious to know all about my life in the 
Seminary and New York city, and especially will you desire to 
know what progress I am making in the high mysteries of theo- 
logical study. The methods of study and recitation are very dif- 
ferent from those in Beulah College ; but I have had very little 
difficulty in getting used to them. In teaching the Evidences of 
Christianity they do not lay as much stress on Miracles and 
Prophecies as Prof. Ironsides used to do ; neither do they appear 
to be “ alarmed ” as he was about the coming influence of German 
Rationalism in America. I have even heard the prediction made, 
that when this Rationalism, or Higher Criticism of the Bible, does 
reach this country, the first place in the Presbyterian church to be 
seriously affected by it will be Union Seminary! 

I have gone to hear quite a number of the leading preachers of 
New York, but I generally attend Mr. Beecher’s church in 
Brooklyn. I remember that Prof. Ironsides used to condemn his 
theology as “unsound,” and Dr. Goodway did not have full con- 
fidence in his orthodoxy ; but I do not see how any one can listen 
to his preaching, as I have done, without believing in Christianity 
more and more. 

I have become very much interested in Robertson’s Sermons 
since I came here, and have also read his “ Life and Letters.” 
What a terribly severe struggle he had while he was undergoing 
his change of theological views. I wonder whether I will ever 
have such an experience after 1 enter upon the ministry! 

Vernon’s room is close to mine, and we spend a good deal of 
time together. For some weeks past he has been intently studying 
the Evidences of Christianity, and has read Paley, Hopkins, Alex- 
ander, and several other authors, whose works on the subject are 
in the Seminary library. 1 first thought that he was seeking to 
equip himself with the most thorough and effective arguments for 
the conte-tthatevery minister must expect to have with skepticism 
and infidelity ; but I now begin to fear that his own mind is distur- 
bed on the subject, and that he is only anxious to have it settled. 
He has dropped a good many remarks to me indicating that he is 
much worried over the objections to miracles that have been 
urged by Hume and others in the past, and also over those presen- 
ted by many of the scientists and philosophers of the present day ; 
and he has sat up a great many nights reading the various argu- 
ments in reply to Hume. So interested has he become in this sub- 


MYSTERIES AND MISERIES. 


55 


ject, that he doesn’t give much attention to his other work, and 
has lost nearly all his interest in the ministry as a profession. 
What makes the matter seem so strange to me, is, that he has 
always been so positive and decided in his religious convictions, 
and has felt so certain that it was his duty to preach. He has 
heretofore declined to go with me to Mr. Beecher’s church, but 
has agreed to do so next Sunday. 

A great many of the students are engaged in the Mission Sun- 
day Schools in different parts of the city. It is certainly an excel- 
lent means of preparation for our future work; and O, how much 
need there is of our most earnest efforts to cany the truths of the 
gospel to the poor and degraded inhabitants of New York ! 

How different life seems here from every thing I have seen 
or experienced before. Here are all classes of people, from 
the richest to the poorest, from the most intelligent to the most 
ignorant, from the purest and noblest to the most degraded. Im- 
migrants are constantly coming in from all parts of the globe, so 
that the population is increasing very rapidly. From the upper 
rooms in our Seminary buildings I can look out upon the dwel- 
lings of well-nigh a million people, comprising representatives of 
every race and nation of the earth. All the world is here, mother ! 

And O, what a difference — what an infinite difference I might 
almost say — in the condition of these various classes of people — 
such wealth, such abundance, such luxury on the one hand, and 
on the other, such abject poverty, such utter wretchedness, such 
hopeless misery ! How can I help asking myself, whether, after 
all, Christianity has made such progress as we claim for it? I have 
heard it said, and I fear it is true, that a worse than Irish famine 
prevails in New York all the time, and that a large number of men, 
women and children die in the city every year from lack of suffi- 
cient food, if they are not starved outright! I often wonder why 
God permits such suffering and destitution to exist by the side of 
such great abundance ; but every body here seems to take it as a 
matter of course ; and although there are numerous charities in 
active operation in the city, the gulf between the rich and the 
poor seems to be growing wider and deeper continually — at any 
rate there is no diminution of the wide-spread poverty and degra- 
dation. Perhaps if I were to live in the city for any length of 
time, I would become entirely accustomed to this condition of the 
“ submerged ” inhabitants ; but, at present, it affects mj^ feelings 
very painfully, making me sometimes ask whether there is 
really an All-wise Providence, and whether my theological studies 
are not all for nought— but I will not let such thoughts as these 
take possession of my mind. 


56 


IIEXRY ELWOOD. 


The city is so full f>f saloons and brothels and other agencies 
of evil, that one might well be surprised that there is no more 
crime than there is. I often wonder how God will judge these 
poor creatures, who have been surrounded with evil influences all 
their lives, and whether they will certainly have to suffer “ eternal 
torments” for the sins they have committed. 

Most of all, I pity the little children who are born and 
reared in such an atmosphere and with such an “environment.” 
How hopeless, how helpless, how wretched seem their young 
lives ! What hardness, what neglect, what abuse they suffer — and 
who is there to hear their cry ! 

I asked one our Professors the other day, if he had any hope 
that there would ever be a change in the condition of the poorer 
classes living in the city ; but he only shook his head and replied : 
“ I fear you might as well try to arrest the law of gravitation as try 
to ‘ abolish poverty ’ in New York, especially while so many for- 
eigners are coming in every year ! ” 

His remark seemed un-Christian to me at first ; but what 
could he do for all these people, even if he cared for them a thou- 
sand fold more than he does? 

But while I am nearly overwhelmed by all that I see on the 
dark side of New York life, on the other side, what noble business 
enterprises, what triumphs of art and architecture, what educa- 
tional privileges, what grace and elegance and refinement are to be 
* seen in this great metropolis! 

The hundreds of churches in the" city do certainly contain 
manj’’ devout and faithful worshipers — people who have conse- 
crated at least a portion of their Avealth to the service of Christ ; — 
and I trust the ministers are all trying to fulfill the divine com- 
mand to preach the gospel to every creature ; but how few of 
the people ever see their faces or hear their message ! ” 

I have prayed most earnestly that I might be able to reap all 
the advantages of theological study at Union Seminary and in 
this commercial center of the nation, without being overwhelmed 
by the many problems that rise up before me, and without losing 
faith in the Providence of God and in the wisdom and virtue of 
the American people. 

Yes, mother, “Darkest New York” is indeed very dark; but 
I trust that the Sun of Righteousness Avill yet shine upon it with 
life and healing in his beams 1 Your Atfectionate Son, 

Henry Elwood. 


CHAPTER IX. 


INSPIRATION AND INTERROGATION. 

On the Sunday between Christmas and New Year’s^ 
Elwood and Vernon attended Plymouth church, and heard 
a sermon from Mr. Beecher, in which, although he did not 
assume to discuss the “ PAidences of Christianity,” either 
internal or external, the adaptation of the truths of the 
Bible to the wants of human nature and the life-giving 
power of the teachings of Christ were set forth with all the 
wealth of imagery and illustration, for which the distin- 
guished orator was so noted.. 

They both listened intently, but with very different 
feelings. Elwood was charmed, delighted, captivated ; 
Vernon was puzzled and worried. 

Perhaps P^lwood was not aware — he certainly would 
not have acknowledged — how much his interest in the dis- 
course was heightened by noticing in the opposite gallery 
Mr. Carroll and Alice, who were spending the holidays 
with some friends in the city. 

No; he would not have not confessed, even to his 
own consciousness, that the eloquence of the great 
preacher became more eloquent [to him] when reflected 
from the face of this girl with whom he had so limited an 
an acquaintance — but such was the fact ! 

At the close of the services they met at the door 
of the church, where Vernon was introduced to Mr. 
Carroll and Alice; and there naturally followed expres- 
sions of appreciation concerning the sermon. 


58 


HENKY ELWOOD. 


“ I have heard Mr. Beecher sev^eral times,” said Mr. 
Carroll, “and every time his eloquence surprises me — he 
always seems to surpass himself! ” 

“I don’t see how any one could preach more elo- 
quently, ” said Elwood; “and don’t you think his oratory 
is as near perfection as any thing under the sun can be?” 

“ No one has ever found any defects in it, so for as I 
know, or suggested any improvement!” responded Mr. 
Carroll. 

“I certainly never heard any 'preacher equal to him,” 
said Vernon, with a lack of enthusiasm in his tone that 
caused a look of mingled surprise and inquiry on Elwood’s 
part. 

“ What a privilege you young men have to hear such 
preaching every Sunday!” said Alice, with unconscious 
animation. 

Why was her countenance so expressive and her 
voice so thrilling to Elwood? Was she not speaking to 
Vernon as well as to him ? 

But a much greater surprise than meeting Mr. Carroll 
and Alice aw^aited the two }'Oung men on their way back 
to the Seminary. As they were walking up Madison Ave- 
nue, they unexpectedly came face to face with Mark 
Conklin 1 

It w'as a mutual surprise; for there had been no com- 
munication between them since their graduation six 
months before. A vigorous hand-shaking followed, espec- 
ially between Conklin and Elwood; and after a few^ inqui- 
ries about each other’s experience since leaving College, 
Conklin insisted, that before they returned to the Sem- 
inary, they should take dinner wdth him at the 

Hotel, a few squares distant, where he had taken quarters 
a few days before. 

The invitation could not be refused, although Ver- 


INSPIRATION AND INTERROGATION. 


59 


non’s response was not as reluctant as Conklin expected it 
would be. 

“Both studying theology? — going to be Christian 
ministers?” said the irrepressible quizzer, as soon as they 
were seated in his room, awaiting the call to dine. “ Do 
you think I had better tarry in the city and take a course 
with you ? ” 

No immediate answer being made to these sallies, he 
presently continued : “Are your Profs, at the Seminary all 
as ‘sound’ and ‘orthodox’ as old Ironsides? Lord, 
what fun I used to have with him when we were studying — 
perhaps I should say when we were reciting, that is, when 
the rest of the class were reciting — the Evidences of Chris- 
tianity ! Do they teach the same ‘ Evidences ’ at Union 
Seminary that they did at Beulah, or have they taken up 
with the ‘ New Theology ’ and the ‘ Higher Criticism, ’ 
that Prof. Ironsides used to worry so much about? ” 

Conklin looked at Vernon and saw something more 
than annoyance in his face — he was interested as well as 
annoyed. After a few minutes’ silence he spoke, but 
how different was his tone from that of former days ! 

“The foundations of Christianity are always the 
same, but they are giving more attention to the internal 
evidences than to the external ones ” — and then he looked 
at Conklin as if he would really like to have his opinion 
concerning the true basis of the Christian faith ! 

“Then they’re not so certain about the miracles and 
prophecies as Ironsides was?” asked the latter, after a 
short pause, and in the dryest possible tone. 

“Is there anything more mysterious about the mira- 
cles of the Bible than about the operations of Nature that 
we see every day?” asked El wood. “We can not 
understand how a plant or a tree grows, or how our phys- 
ical life is sustained.” 


60 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“ Why don’t you clinch that point,” responded Conk- 
lin, “by quoting the text, ‘ Great is the mystery, etc. ’? 

I^Vhat fine progress you are making in theological dialec- 
tics ! Have you got far enough along to reconcile all the 
statements of the Bible with the revelations of science ? 
Can you prove to the satisfaction of every reasonable 
mind, that Moses (or whoever wrote the Pentateuch) 
meant six geological periods when he said the world was 
created in six days — only six thousand years ago ! ” 

What effect such queries would have on a young man 
like Vernon, who had spent many days and nights in 
searching for certain proof of all the miracles recorded in 
the Bible, may be very easily imagined ! f 

“But, Conklin,” said Elwood, “ the theologians are 
not giving as much attention to these discrepancies as they 
used to do, because they are resting the claims of Chris- 
tianity on the great triumphs it has won, and on the excel- 
lence of its principles and their adaptation to all classes 
and conditions of mankind.” 

“And don’t you think, ” was the repl)% “ that your 
Professors ought to take you a journey round the world to 
show you how many nations have been Christianized and 
made happy, all in the brief space of eighteen or nineteen 
centuries! ” 

“You must admit, Conklin,” said Pdwood, with some 
earnestness, “ that the establishment of the American gov- 
ernment and the civilization of the nineteenth century are 
largely, if not wholly, due to Christianity.” 

“ And to make you appreciate this glorious ‘ civiliza- 
tion ’ more fully, wouldn’t it be a capital idea for you to 
go through all the slums and dives and tenement houses of 
New York, just for an ‘ object lesson ? ’ You know how 
valuable ‘ object lessons ’ are in the instruction of youth ! ” 
“ I frankly confess, ” answered Elwood, “that there is 
a mystery about these things, a mystery that I have tried 


INSPIRATION AND INTERROGATION. 


61 


in vain to understand ; but I still believe that Christian- 
ity is the only hope of civilization and humanity.” Bad 
as things are, would they not be far worse, if it were not 
for the influence of our holy religion ? ” 

“ And while they are at it,” continued Conklin, not 
heeding Elwood’s point, “ought they not to take you 
through the palaces of the rich — I mean such of them as 
poor devils of theological students would be allowed to 
enter — so you could see how much influence your religion 
has had upon these people ! How long would it take you 
to cipher out the problem, whether the ‘ upper classes,’ or 
the ‘ lower classes, ’ have received the greater benefit from 
Christianity ! ” 

Let no one be surprised that neither Elwood nor Ver- 
non could more successfully parry these thrusts. There 
be many “Evidences” of Christianity not found in the 
books, nor yet in the consciousness of many young men of 
their years ; and whoever would show that his religion is 
divine must reflect its light into the souls of his fellow- 
men ! 

The apple proves its virtue by its flavor ; the flower by 
its fragrance; the fire by its heat; the sun by its shining ! 


CHAPTER X 


DOUBT AND DARKNESS. 

It was less than a fortnight after this, that Vernon 
came to Elwood’s room at a late hour one evening, with a 
much more serious expression of countenance than even 
the most serious theological students are wont to assume. 

“What ails you, Homer?” asked Elwood, a little 
playfully. “Not getting homesick? No bad news 

from ” but a second view of Vernon’s face checked 

him ; and the two friends looked at each other for a min- 
ute or two, without moving or speaking. 

Vernon sat down, and presently answered very slowly 
and seriously: “No, Henry, I am not homesick; neither 
have I received bad news from any quarter ; but I hav^e 
determined to give up the study of theology.” 

“ Elwood’s surprise was beyond all power of expres- 
sion ; but there was no mistaking the tone of Vernon’s 
voice. ; so he could only say to him : ‘ ‘ Are you really in 
in earnest, Vernon ? Have you concluded that you are 
not called to preach, or that you would be more useful in 
some other profession ? ” 

“ As Elwood said this, he watched Vernon very 
closely for some sign or token that his feeling was only a 
temporary one, only such a misgiving as any theological 
student might be supposed to have when not in his best 
mood. But there was no relaxation in the lines of Ver- 
non’s face ; on the contrary, his lips were compressed more 
firmly, and his entire bearing indicated that his determina- 


DOUBT AND DARKNESS. 


63 


tion was final. He made no response, however ; and pres- 
ently Elwood continued: “I can not account for this, 
Vernon ; it has never once occurred to me that you would 
give up the ministry for any other profession ; and I have 
always felt so certain that you were called to preach.” 

Vernon could not conceal the pain that El wood’s 
words gave him, but he still remained silent; and fora few 
minutes they could only cast inquiring glances at each 
other. 

Poor Vernon ! He was not troubled because the path 
of Duty had become too steep and rugged, but because her 
face was muffled, and her voice could no longer be heard ! 

When at length he spoke, it was in words like 
these : “ Elwood, I can stand it no longer. I have been 
studying these ‘ Evidences ’ day after day and night after 
night for several weeks ; and is no use for me to spend any 
more time upon them. I began this study, thinking it 
was the easiest thing in the world to prove the miracles of 
the Bible, and that any person who denied them must be 
either very wicked or very dull of understanding ; and I 
determined to read and digest all the arguments I could 
find, so that I could convince every skeptic and unbeliever 
of his error, even if he were as much disposed to cavil as 
Conklin, and also show all Christians how certain a basis 
they have for their faith : but before I had gone very far, 

I found myself troubled with many questions that I could 
not answer, and for several weeks I have been searching 
for arguments sufficient to settle my own doubts ! ” 

“ And have not found them ?” 

“I must confess.” said Vernon — and here his tone 
became much sadder than before — “that the longer I 
studied the more my doubts increased. I tried to shake 
them off, but they only seemed to cling to me the more 
closely. I prayed the Lord to save me from unbelief, but 
my unbelief would not leave me.” 


64 


hp:nry elwood. 


“ But you surely do not think that miracles are 
impossible — you would not limit the power of the 
Almighty?” asked P^l wood, quite earnestly. 

“All I can say about that,” was the doleful reply, 
“ is, that all the arguments in favor of the miracles of the 
Bible that I have read are not sufficient to prove them 
beyond doubt or question ; and that is the way I m.ust 
believe them, if I believe them at all. And surely no man 
has a right to enter the Christian ministry, who does not 
believe in miracles as firmly as he believes in his own exis- 
tence. I don’t even see how any one can call himself a 
Christian, unless he implicitly accepts every thing recorded 
in the Bible. 1 know there are other proofs of Christian- 
ity besides the miracles, but these are the corner-stone ; 
and how can the house stand when its corner-stone is 
removed ? ” 

“You have not accepted Hume’s statement that ‘ no 
testimony can prove a miracle,’ have you ? ” asked Elwood. 

“ At one time,” was the doleful answer, “ while stud- 
ying the many able and learned replies to Hume and to the 
scientists and philosophers of our own day, I was almost 
convinced that there was sufficient evidence to satisfy 
every reasonable person that the miracles were actually 
wrought. I went to bed rejoicing in this light ; but when 
I awoke in the morning there came to me the torturing 
question, how even the working of rrdracles could prove 
the writers of the Bible to be above all error and all possi- 
bility of error. And this question is harder to dispose 
of than any that has yet come into my mind. I have 
found no answer to it in any of the books I have read, 
and none in the lectures of our Professors!” 

“But the internal evidences, Vernon; are they not 
sufficient, even without the miracles and prophecies?” 

“ They certainly are not sufficient to satisfy me that 
the Bible possesses the absolute authority that is claimed 


DOUBT AND DARKNESS. 


65 


for it ; and how can any one ask his fellow-men to accept 
it as a revelation from heaven, when he has no solid basis 
on which to rest its claims ? Without such a basis as men 
can see and understand, they will not and can not acknowl- 
edge the binding obligation of Christianity. I certainly 
can not preach it to them without such a foundation for 
my own faith.” 

Ah, Vernon, have you never read the words of the 
Christ, ‘ ‘ Blessed are they which have not seen, and yet 
have believed ! ” 7 

“ Have you chosen any other profession, Vernon ? ” 
asked Elwood, seeing that all efforts to persuade his friend 
to continue his theological studies would be in vain. 

“I have decided to enter the College of Physicians 
and Surgeons, and will commence the study of medicine 
right away,” responded Vernon; and then, with a little 
more cheerfulness in his tone, : “A man does not have to 
believe in miracles to enter the medical profession ! ” 

There was silence between them for a few minutes, 
after which Elwood said very kindly: “ What will your 
father and mother say to this change, Homer? Have you 
written to them about it?” 

In attempting to reply to this, Vernon’s voice choked, 
and his eyes filled with tears, but, after a short struggle, he 
said : “I know it will be a great disappointment to them ; 
but I have often heard my father say that no man ought 
to be a minister of any church unless he is a firm believer 
in all its doctrines ; and I am certain he would not approve 
my entering the Presbyterian ministry with such doubts 
as I have about the miracles of the Bible ; but O, how it 
will pain him ’’—here Vernon’s voice failed him for a min- 
ute or two— “to see me classed with skeptics and unbe- 
lievers. My mother’s heart was very much set on my 
becoming a minister ; and it will grieve her sorely to have 
me deny anything in the Bible, but she always taught me 


66 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


to be true and honest ; and and I am certain they would 
both rather see me give up the ministry than act the part 
of a base hypocrite! I would much rather be an infidel 
than act such a part ! ” 

“You surely do not expect to become an infidel!’' 
exclaimed Elwood, very anxiously. 

“I suppose that is what I shall be called,” was the 
rather pitiful answer; “ but I will not be dishonest or hypo- 
critical, even to escape that epithet.” 

Another pause, during which Vernon seemed to be 
undergoing the severest torture ; and, at length, he broke 
out in a sobbing voice: “O, Henry, what shall I write to 
Clara Martin ? ” 

Yes ; what shall he write to the minister’s daughter, 
the girl who given him her affection and her plighted troth 
in the days of his College life, when his faith was unshaken, 
and the service of Christ was a loadstar ever before his 
eyes ; the girl with whom he had spent so many blissful 
hours in contemplation of the time when he should preach 
that Gospel, to which she had devoted her life, and con- 
cerning whose truthfulness no shadow of doubt had ever 
crossed her mind ; the girl who, he knew, would gladly 
follow him to the ends of the earth, that she might assist 
him in the functions of the office to which she believed he 
was divinel)'' called now that the foundations of his faith 
are gone, and he himself knows not by what name he 
should be called, what shall he write to her? 

Vernon was nearly overcome with his own ques- 
tion. His frame shook with feeling, and hot and bitter 
tears fell from his eyes. He rose from his chair, and throw- 
ing his arms around Elwood’s neck, sobbed out, “O 
Henry, this is too much! Will I, indeed, have to give 
her up ? ” 

Elwood’s eyes glistened with sincerest sympathy ; but, 
as he thought of Clara and her family and all her religious 


DOUBT AND DARKNESS. (>7 

associations, he realized how serious Vernon’s case in ref- 
erence to her migh«- be, so he could only say: “ Honaer, 
I can not tell how Miss Martin will regard this change in 
your belief concerning the miracles of the Bible. She 
loves you very ardently ; but she is intensely religious, 
and has a very strong sense of duty ; and therefore your 
only course is to be perfectly frank and candid with her, 
whatever pain it may cost you. Perhaps ’’—assuming a 
more encouraging tone— “you could explain every thing 

to her, and ask her to wait until ” 

“ No,” interrupted Vernon ; “ I can never believe in 
muacles again. I will tell her all, and say that I will sub- 
mit to whatever course her conscience directs her to take— 
but, O God, I never dreamed it would come to this ! ” 


CHAPTER XI. 


DUTY AND DEVOTION. 

“ Father, I want very much to go to College after I 
graduate at the public school,” said Alice Carroll, as she 
entered her father’s library and laid her hand on his 
shoulder one evening a few weeks after their return from 
the east. 

“Well, Alice, I sympathize with your desire,” was 
his quick response, “and much as I should regret to have 
you leave home, my daughter shall not be refused any edu- 
cational privileges on which her heart is set. Where 
would you like to go? There are a great many F'emale 
Colleges and Seminaries, besides a number of institutions 
where both sexes are admitted — but you will have time 
enough to think about that between this and next fall.” 

“But, father, I would like to go to College without 
leaving home ! ” she responded, after a moment’s hesitation. 

“If Beulah College would admit both sexes, you 
could have that opportunity, Alice ; but I fear you would 
have to wait a great many more years than you would 
wish, before its doors are open to young women — if, 
indeed, they will ever be open, ” he added, with a smile. 

“ Father, I have something to talk to you about this 
evening” — she spoke with a slight trepidation of tone, but 
her eyes never before looked so clear and bright — “you 
will give me a gracious hearing, will you not?” 

“Very well, Alice.” 

“ Nearly a year ago, just a few weeks before the last 


DUTY AND DEVOTION. 


65 » 


Commencement, as Blanche Jordan and I were expressing 
to each other the desire to take a collegiate course, we 
met Mrs. Goodway on the street ; and I asked her if she 
thought Beulah College would ever admit young women 
to its privileges ; and nearly every time I have seen her since, 
she speaks about it, and tells me how much the Doctor 
is interested in the subject. She says he is giving it very 
serious consideration, and she thinks, if he sees his way 
clear, he will bring it before the Trustees at their next 
annual meeting. She has urged me to get some of the girls 
living in Beulah to sign a petition for admission to the 
College and place it in the Doctor’s hands, as that would 
at least give him the opportunity to present the matter to 
the Trustees. I have talked to Blanche and several 
other girls in the High School about if, and also to Clara 
Martin and a few other graduates of previous years ; and 
nearly all of them— especially Blanche and Clara— are anx- 
ious to sign such a petition ; but they wanted me to see 
what you thought about it first.” 

“The Trustees will surely not refu.se you the ‘right 
of petition,’ Alice ! ” he said, with a smile. 

“Then you don’t think there would be anything 
improper in our taking the course that Mrs. Goodway 
suggested ? ” she asked, with some eagerness. 

“ I certainly see no objection to your doing what you 
propose, except that it will not be likely to have any effect 
upon the Trustees of the College ” — then pausing a mo- 
ment or two_“ still, I remember that a few days ago, in a 
conversation with Dr. Goodway, he asked my views of 
co-education 

“You told him you were in favor of it?” she inter- 
rupted. 

“ Yes, Alice; and I also said that I had always found 
the association of the sexes so desirable in public schools, 
that I believed it should be adopted by Colleges also. 1 


70 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


didn’t suppose he was seriously considering the subject, 
(neither did I know that you were so interested in it), or I 
might have said more to him than I did.” 

“Still you don’t think the Trustees would be influ- 
enced by our desire to take the collegiate course ? ” 

“ I really could not give you much encouragement on 
that point, Alice. The Presbyterian church is a very ‘ con- 
servative ’ institution, and a few of its most ‘ conservative ’ 
members belong to this Board of Trustees. Large bodies, 
like Colleges, always move slowly. Prof. Ironsides would 
certainly oppose it, unless he could be convinced that 
St. Paul’s various injunctions in reference to women were 
not intended to exclude them from American Colleges ; and, 
possibly, there are other members of the Faculty of the 
same mind. But,' at all events, a modest petition from 
a number of young women would do no harm ; and, if Dr. 
Goodway is as seriously studying the question as I now 
suspect he is, he will certainly come to a favorable conclu- 
sion upon it, and he might influence the Trustees to adopt 
the policy of co-education. I speak of this as a possibility, 
because I know the Trustees have the highest confidence 
in Dr. Goodway’s wisdom and judgment as well as in his 
devotion to the interests of the College.” 


It was just a week after this, that Alice called at Clara 
Martin’s home to report the very gracious manner in 
which Dr. Goodway had received the petition for admis- 
sion to Beulah College, that herself and other young 
women had presented to him, Clara having excused herself 
from accompanying her companions to the Doctor’s house. 

“ O Clara,” she said, with eyes full of enthusiasm, “ I 
can hardly tell you how surprised we were. We almost 
feared the Doctor would rebuke us for impertinence, or, at 
best, dismiss us without any promise or encouragement ; 
but, instead of that, he shook hands with each of us, and 


J)LTY AND DEVOTION. 71 

told US he had been thinking a great deal upon the subject 
lately, and had almost concluded that Beulah College 
ought to open its doors to young women as well as to 
young men. He thought the matter would come before 
the Trustees next Commencement, and he believed they 
would give it very careful, and he hoped, favorable consid- 
eration but, Clara, what makes you look so sad? You 

haven’t been sick?” 

“ No Alice, ” replied Clara, with eyes full of -tears, 
which, till this moment, she had restrained with great 
effort — “ I have not been sick, and I ought to rejoice with 
you over Dr. Goodway’s kind reception of our petition ; 
but, O Alice ” — here the suffering girl laid her head on her 
friend’s shoulder— “ how much I have suffered the past few 
days— what shall I do ?— what shall I do?” 

Alice quickly divined— have not the woes of love 
a tone that belongs to no other utterance ?— that Clara’s 
grief was in some way related to her engagement with 
Homer Vernon ; but whatever curiosity she felt was 
thoughtfully restrained ; and she wiped Clara’s tears from 
her face without asking any questions. 

This delicate sympathy w'as highly prized by Clara ; 
and, after a few minutes, she raised her head and looked 
into her friend’s face very gratefully— and pitifully. 

There was a responsive tear in Alice’s eye, but she 
waited for Clara to speak. 

‘ ‘ Dear A lice, ’ ’ the latter at length faltered, ‘ ‘ I thought 
I would say nothing about this to any one, except my 
father and mother, but now I feel that 1 must tell you too. 

Homer Vernon ” but sobs choked her utterance, and 

again she laid her head on Alice’s shoulder and wept pro- 
fusely. 

After some time Alice spoke with exquisite sym- 
pathy and tenderness : ‘ ‘ Clara, I can not understand your 
trouble. I never met Mr. Vernon until father and I were 


72 


IIKXltY ELWOOD. 


in Brooklyn during the holidays ; but I have heard him 
spoken of as a ver}- worthy and pious young man, and I 
do not see how he could prove false to you, or deceive you 
in any way.” 

“Yes, Alice,” was the reply, “ he was very religious, 
at least, I always thought so ; and he always said he would 
prize me as a wife, because I was so devoted to religious 
duties, and could be such a help and comfort to him when 
he became a minister. And I always told him, that it 
would be very hard for me to leave the Methodist church, 
to which I was so much attached, but if I could assist him 
in his ministry, for his sake and Christ’s sake, I would 
cheerfully make the sacrifice.” 

Here Clara paused, quite overcome with the weight of 
her feelings, while Alice looked into her face with mingled 
sympathy and curiosity. 

Accepting this unspoken request to tell every thing, 
the poor girl continued : “ He has written to me, that he 
no longer believes in the miracles of the Bible, and has 
therefore lost faith in Christianity as a revelation from 
heaven, and as he fears I will not want to marry a man 
that will be called an infidel, he will release me from my 
engagement, if I so desire. He says it is exceedingly 
painful to him to write this to me, but he feels bound to 
do it.” 

Alice listened very attentively, and, after a few mo- 
ments’ pause, said : “lam very glad to learn, Clara, that 
Mr. Vernon has not proved false to you in any respect; 
and, from what you say, he suffers as much as you do.” 

“That only makes my duty the more painful,” was 
the sad reply. ‘ ‘ O, how cati he doubt the truth of every 
thing written in the Bible? It seems so awful, Alice!” 

“ He has written to you very frankly and honorably, 
Clara. Must you immediately decide either to break your 


Dl'TY AND DEVOTION. 


73 


engagement, or to cling to him in spite of his disbelief in 

Christianity ? Could you not ask him to give you time ” 

“ No, Alice,” was the prompt reply ; “I will not leave 
the matter in suspense. Neither of us could endure that. 
It will be very hard for me to give him up ; but I have 
often heard my father .say that when duty requires us to 
take any course, we should promptly decide to take it, no 
matter how much v^e may suffer. My parents have not yet 
told me what they think I ought to do ; but I feel certain 
they never could bear to see me marry an infidel, and I 
fear Homer has really become one— but I shall never cease 
to pray for the salvation of his soul ! I can not see why 
I have to suffer so. Am 1 such a great sinner, that I must 
be chastened so grievously?” 

“‘Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth,’ Clara,” 
was Alice’s quick and kindly answer— and, after a few min- 
utes’ pause, she continued: “Whatever be the result of 
this trial, I feel certain that he is preparing you for his 
service. He will never forsake you ! ” 

“I hope I shall never lose faith in his goodness,” 
replied Clara very gratefully ; “but O, it will be so hard for 
me to write my last letter to Homer Vernon ! ” 

Most gladly would Alice have done something to pre- 
vent Clara’s separation from Vernon; but the chasm 
that had opened between the young lovers was too wide 
for her vision— she could not see across it ! 


CHAPTER XII. 


FATE AND FAITH. 

One night in March following Vernon’s withdrawal 
from Union Seminary, he and Elwocd were walking arm 
in arm along one of the most crowded and squalid streets 
of New York. 

There was nothing unusual to'arre.st their attention. 
A newspaper reporter with the most eager scent for news 
would perhaps have traveled the full length of the thor- 
oughfare without finding a single “ item and the uni- 
formed policemen trod their beats with as regular steps and 
as imperturbable faces, as if there were not a human being 
within the range of their vision. But Homer Vernon’s 
spirit was sore and exquisitely sensitive ; and in a walk of 
half a mile he saw and heard enough to fill a volume. 
Every unwashed street gamin ; every ragged and shivering 
beggar girl ; every feeble and tottering old man ; every 
withered, decrepit and palsied woman ; every reeling 
drunkard, whether male or female ; every brazen street- 
walker; every haggard and despairing face, arrested his 
attention and seemed to demand his intensest thought and 
feeling ; while the cries of little children and the curses of 
men and women, mingled with the din and clatter of the 
street, pierced the depths of his consciousness. 

It was only the usual carnival of poverty and vice on 
one of the dark highways of the great city — why should 
he be in any wise affected by it ? 

Vernon had commenced the study of medicine with a 


FATE AND FAITH. 


/o 

distinguished physician of the city, preparatory to a full 
course of lectures and other instruction in the College of 
Physicians and Surgeons ; but neither his change of pro- 
fession nor his change of theological views had abated the 
friendship between him and P^lwood. On the contrary, this 
separation of their paths seemed to increase their interest 
in each other’s society ; and whenever they met, this inter- 
est generally manifested itself in walks about the city or 
in conversation upon subjects pertaining to its inhabitants. 

On this occasion Elwood was on his way to look after 
a boy belonging to a down town Mission Sunday School, 
Harry Howard by name, in whom he was much interested, 
and who had been absent from the school for the past two 

Sundays ; and Dr. ’s office being along his route, he 

stopped and asked Vernon to accompany him. 

After crossing Broadway a very short walk eastward 
brought them to the street parallel to Broadway, 
along which Vernon experienced the sensations and feel- 
ings above described — if such sensations and feelings can 
be described in human language. At length they turned 
eastward again, and after walking a square or two toward 
East river, they came to the block in which Mrs. Howard, 
Harry’s mother, lived. 

It was an old, four- story structure, and her room was 
on the fourth floor. After ascending three flights of stairs 
and passing to the rear end of a dark hallway, Elwood 
knocked at the door, and a thin-faced woman of middle 
age and rather slender form presently opened it. She was 
too much surprised to bid them come in, and could only 
look at them in utter astonishment and bewilderment. 

Elwood noticed her embarrassment and quietly said to 
her, “I came to inquire after Harry, Mrs. Howard ; we 
have missed him from the school the last two Sundays, and 
I feared he might be sick.” 

“ O, yes, sir, come in; he has been very sick,” was 


76 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


the answer, “but he is some better to-day — he will be very 
glad to see you.” 

They both went in and closed the door. Very scant 
was the “furniture” in that room — a small cook stove 
nearly worn out, one table, two or three shelves for a cup- 
board, two wash-tubs, a store box for a coal-bin (but by 
no means filled with coal), one bedstead and bedding, 
three or four chairs, a meagre supply of tinware and dishes, 
not much more than a dozen pieces all told, no articles 
“ too tedious to mention ” to be added to the list. The 
woman’s dress was rather ragged, and the room was very 
far from being clean or tidy ; and yet if these young men 
had been much keener observers, they would have noticed 
something in her speech and manner to indicate that she 
had seen better days; they would have observed some 
traces of the grace and refinement which several years of 
hard fate had not entirely obliterated, 

A hasty and unfortunate marriage, a drunken hus- 
band, now dead, work too hard for her delicate constitu- 
tion, sickness, neglect, abuse — these were some of the 
chapters of the experience which had reduced Dora How- 
ard from a position of comparative comfort to the poverty 
and squalor in which we now find her. 

“ Here is Harry,” she said, moving toward the bed on 
which the little fellow, a lad of ten years, was lying half 
asleep. Then with, a faint smile on her face, she said to 
him, “Harry, here is Mr. Elwood come to see you.” 

The little boy opened his eyes with a look of pleasure, 
and Elwood’s hand was laid on his head as he said, “We 
missed you from Sunday School, Harry; and I was afraid 
you were sick, so I came around to see you.” 

“I’m better now,” was the child’s reply, “and I’ll be 
there next Sunday.” 

“O, Mr. Elwood,” the mother here broke in, “ Harry 
has been very sick, and I was so afraid he would die. I 


KATE AND FAITH. 


77 


don’t see what I would do without my Harry. He is such 
a good boy to do all the chores he can and brings me all 
the pennies he earns, much as I know he would love a bit 
of candy or a few peanuts sometimes and then he’s so 
good to stay with his brother and sister”— here Mrs. How- 
ard pointed with a slight flush of pride to a girl of three 
years and a boy of two crouching in the farther corner of 
the room— “ when I go out to work. But I don’t know 
what I would have done since he has been sick, if some 
good women hadn’t brought us so many good things to 
eat and ordered a few bushels of coal ; but I gave a part of 
the things to Mrs. Lewis, who lives on the floor below us, 
because she has so many little children and her husband 
was out of work, and they had nothing to eat, and no fire, 
although the weather has been very cold.” 

“But, mamma,” said Harry, in a feeble voice, for, 
although the fever had left him, he was still very weak, 
“my teacher says the Lord will always provide for us, if 
we trust in him ; and the last time I was at Sunday School 
we had a lesson which told how the ravens fed Elijah 
because he was so good a man.” 

“Yes, Harry, he has provided for us; but I am afraid 
there are many little boys and girls that haven’t as good a 
bed as you have nor fire enough to keep them warm,” she 
responded. 

At this point the two younger children, as if deter- 
mined to play some part in the conversation that was 
going on, started from their corner, and keeping close to 
the wall were soon at their mother’s side, before their 
action was noticed by either El wood or Vernon. 

Their bodies were very scantily clad, and their faces 
showed but too plainly that they had not always had 
enough to eat ; but their supper to-night had fully satis- 
fied them, and they had played with considerable glee, and 


78 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


as soon as they felt safe, what wondering eyes they raised 
to the strangers before them ! 

Who can tell how soon children begin to study the 
^‘problem of life ? ” 

Each of the young men put his hand into his pocket, 
and taking out a silver coin, put it into the hands of one 
of the children, with directions to “give it to mamma, "j 
and after bidding Harry good-bye they started toward the 
door. 

“Indeed, sirs,” said Mrs. Howard, “I wouldn’t take 
help from any one if Harry was well, and I was able to 
work”— V^ernon here noticed the hollow cough, but the 
room was not quite light enough to see the hectic flush on 
her cheek, which would have showed still more plainly 
how unable she was to fight the hard battle before her— 
“but we have had such a hard time to get along before 
those women brought us the things to eat and the medi- 
cine for Harry.” 

“ But, mamma,” spoke up Harry, ^‘I’m going to get 
well now, and I’ll earn lots of pennies, and we can have 
plenty of coal and all we want to eat too.” 

There was a tear in the eyes of both the young men 
as they shook hands with Mrs. Howard, and Elwood 
asked her just before he closed the door if there were not 
two girls named Russell living in the same building. 

“Yes,” was the reply, “ they live in the room directly 
below ours, but I don’t expect their father and rr.other will 
let them attend the Sunday School any more from what 
the girls have told me.” 

“ I’ll see them and inquire,” answered Elwood, and 
then they descended the stairs, and, in response to Elwood’s 
knock at the door, a very gruff voice said; “ Come in, 
whoever you be ! ” 

The dim candle burning on the table revealed very 
little to the sight except dirt, squalor and disorder, the few 


FATE AA’I> FAITH, 


7ii 

articles of furniture being scattered about in utter confus- 
ion. The father and mother sat on opposite sides of the 
room, each puffing a pipe filled with tobacco, and the sti- 
fling atmosphere was so oppressive that Vernon involun- 
tarily drew back and stood in the hallway, awaiting the 
result of Elwood’s visit. 

“ I came to inquire about your two girls, Rachel and 
Julia," the latter said, “ as they haven’t been to Sunday 
School for some time." 

The answer came from both man and woman in such 
gruff tones and broken sentences that Elwood could not 
determine whether they were natives or emigrants from the 
darkest and remotest quarters of the earth ; but their 
words translated into King’s English were about these : 

“You have, have you ? You might just as well go 
on about your business. So you are one of the people 
that teaches the children of poor and honest parents not 
to go out and gather a little money for them, when there’s 
plenty of people have money enough to give. Very like 
we’ll let the lasses go to a place where they get too proud 
to mind their father and mother ! " 

Neither in his books nor in his experience, had 
Ehvood learned any way to answer such heathenism as 
this, so he rather abruptly withdrew from the room, merely 
saying “ Good evening," to which they gave no response. 

At the farther end of the hall they met the two girls, 
very thinly clad, with a small tin bucket evidently contain- 
ing beer or some stronger drink, which they were carrying 
to their parents. 

Doubting the wisdom of saying anything to them 
concerning the Sunday School, Elwood stopped long 
enough to speak their names and offer them his hand ; but 
they shrank from him, and hastily said: “ O, sir, we can 
not go to Sunday School any more ; father and mother 
scold us and beat us for it — indeed, we can not." 


80 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


As soon as the two young men reached the pa\ ement 
Elwood pulled out his watch, and looking at it said: 
“Vernon, it is getting late, I had no idea we were stay- 
ing there so long; let us hurry to our rooms.” 

But Vernon answered a little impatiently: “I don’t 
believe I shall sleep much to-night; let us take a walk 
along the river front before we return.” 

Elwood consented reluctantly; and a few minutes’ 
walk brought them to East river, and going out on one of 
the numerous piers they found the' incoming tide 
approaching its full height, a number of large vessels 
being borne on its current. 

They watched the flowing waters for several moments 
in silence, and then Vernon spoke; “ Elwood, that tide is 
to me a symbol of the fate that rules the world. Nothing 
can arrest its ebb and flow. If we were exposed to its 
power, it would sweep us down without mercy ; and no 
prayers or entreaties on our part would cause it to spare 
us for a moment. Is not the world ruled thus ?” 

Elwood looked at him in blank astonishment, but 
could only say in reply: “Why, you haven’t lost all 
faith in the Providence of God, have you?” 

“ I hardly know how to answer that,” was the rueful 
response. “I can see nothing but blind, irresistible force, 
to which we are all subject from the beginning to the end 
of our lives. I can see no Providence that interferes with 
this force or prevents its incessant operation. Are we 
anything but wheels in the vast machinery of the universe 
— anything but drops of water in the mighty ocean of 
existence ?” 

“ O, Vernon,” said Elwood earnestly, “we must not 
lose faith in the Divine Providence ; life would be insup- 
portable without it. God is in the tides ; he is in the 
winds ; he is in the storms ! ” 

“ Well, if there be such a Providence as you speak 


FATE AND FAITH. 


81 


of, why is not that poor woman with her children cared 
for? And those two Russell girls — you can easily see 
what their fate will be ! And besides these, how many 
other poor creatures in this city are suffering for fire and 
food, and how many have no home but the pavement ! 
Why is not some miracle wrought in their behalf, if mira- 
cles were ever wrought ? ” 

“ Such mysteries as these, I confess,” replied Elwood, 

‘ ‘ are very hard to solve ; but I know that Christianity is 
the only hope of the poor and wretched everywhere — do 
you know any other hope for them ? ” 

Vernon made no reply to this, and soon Elwood con- 
tinued : “ But, Vernon, you are not always so sad as this. 
Haven’t you something special on your mind ? Has Clara 
Martin— but I beg pardon for my curiosity.” 

“You needn’t do that, Henry,' as I am very willing 

to tell you all she has written to me. Such is fate! 

She could not have done otherwise, I suppose ; and I 
certainly respect her candor and sincerity, especially since 
she assures me that her conclusion is the result of a pain- 
ful struggle and many prayers and tears. But I can never 
give my love and affection to any other woman. I shall 
devote my life to the profession I have chosen. There is 
nothing miraculous or mysterious about medicine; every- 
thing is clear, positive and reasonable ; and I feel certain I 
can do more to relieve human suffering as a physician than 

in any other capacity or profession But do you notice 

the tide ? It has reached its full height, and will soon ebb 
its way back to the sea— no power can resist it!” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PROMISE AND PROSPECT. 

This chapter shall be a record of two letters, which 
v/ere as follows : 

Union Theologicaj^ Seminary, \ 
New York, Jan’y ], 187-. j 

My Dear Mother: 

The beginning of another calendar year reminds me afresh 
how soon my three years’ course at Union Seminary is to close. 
Only a few months— it might be more proper for me to say only a 
few weeks — remain, in which to complete my studies at this noted 
seat of theological learning. 

City life has had considerable fascination for me ; and, on the 
whole, I have been very much stimulated in my studies by 
the limited contact I have had with the energy and activity 
of the metropolis. My work in the Mission Sunday Schools 
has shown me, that, in spite of all the wickedness and degradation 
of the “ lower classes,” there is a great deal of real goodness 
among them ; and there would be much more than there is, if it 
were only developed — but O, they have so poor a chance ! 

I have also learned that the very wealthy people of the city, 
although I have never mingled with them in “society,” are not, 
generally, as selfish and hard-hearted as many take them to be. I 
have certainly found many noble men and women among them, 
who not only give large amounts of money in charity, but also 
devote a great deal of time and attention to the relief of the 
poor in various parts of the city. 

Mrs. Howard, the woman I have told you so much about, died 
a few days ago. Her last days were made quite comfortable by 
the charitable women of the city ; and good homes have been 
secured for all three of her children. She had a very hard 
life of it ; and yet I have often heard her say, that she could not 
understand why the Lord was so good to her and her family, when 
so many other women and children suffered for the comforts of 


PROMISE AND PROSPECT. 


8 » 

life ! Her son Harry is an exceedingly bright little fellow, and is 
warmly attached to me. Not long since, when I was talking to 
him about his futui*e occupation, to my great surprise, he said he 
would like to be a preacher, and then added very earnestly : “ Mr. 
Elwood, when you become a preacher, will you tell me how to 
preach too?” 

You have often heard me speak of my College classmate, 
George Marvel. Judge then of my surprise at meeting him on 
the streets of New York a few days «go and finding him the same 
Marvel he used to be in College. When I saw him, he was giving 
his last piece of money to a street beggar, who, I thought, was 
imposing on his good nature, although I was not certain. He has 
a clerkship in a large mercantile establishment in the city, and is 
allowed a tolerably liberal salary ; but his clothes are as thread- 
bare as those he wore in College ; and he told me it was impossible 
for him to saye any money in a place like New Y'ork, where there 
are so many persons in need. Cold as the weather is, he has no 
overcoat ; and I have been told that he frequently goes without 
his luncheon at noon, because he has no money to buy one. 

Every one that knows Marvel admires this trait in his charac- 
ter, although I have found no one who thinks he ought to be imi- 
tnted. I fear he will some day be seriously imposed upon, as there 
are so many people in the world inclined to take advantage of one 
so generous and good-natured. 

My friend Vernon, whose theological difficulties I have fre- 
quently described to you, is taking lectures in the College of Phy- 
sicians and Surgeons. I have talked with a number of his fellow- 
students ; and they all say he will make a very fine physician, as 
he is so devoted to the study of medicine. He seldom alludes to 
religious or theological ([uestious, or to his former engagement 
with Miss Martin, of Beulah ; but when I showed him your last 
letter, in which you stated that you deeply sympathized with any 
young man who had to suffer so severely on account of his honest 
doubts, he seemed very much affected, and charged me to inform 
you how grateful he felt for such an expression of sympathy. 

■p 1 hardly know whether Mr. Edwards would be satisfied with 
the (Calvinism taught in Union Seminary or not. The Professors 
all declare their adherence to the doctrine of election ; but some 
of them think it is stated in the Confession in too strong terms ; 
and they have gone so far as to say they Avould be glad to see the 
third and fourth Sections of Chap. HI stricken out of the book, or 
changed into an unqualified offer of salvation to every one that 
will believe in Christ and follow him ! , 

Throughout my Seminary course, 1 have sought to secure the 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


M4 

best possible preparation for the ministerial office, ; but at times I 
feel such a shrinking from its responsibilities, that I almost fear I 
have mistaken my calling. Strange to say, I have had more of 
such feelings this year than during either my first or second year. 

The question in what part of the country I shall seek a field of 
labor comes into my mind occasionally ; but I can safely leave that 
to the wisdom of Divine Providence— at any rate, I do not need to 
consider it at present. 

From Your Affectionate Son, 

Hejsry Elwood. 


Beulah CoLLE(iE, March 1, 187-. 

My Dear Mr. Elwood: 

Although I have not seen you since you graduated nearly three 
years ago, I have thought that you would like to hear something 
concerning the affairs of the College. 

It gives me great pleasure to say that we have nearly twice as 
large an attendance of students as we had when you left, and that, 
through the liberality of some wealthy friends, our endowment 
has been largely increased ; so that our facilities for higher educa- 
tion will compare favorably with those of any College in our state. 

You have no doubt been advised concerning the experiment 
of co-education that we entered upon two years ago. To our 
great surprise, there were nearly one hundred applications for 
admission to the various classes, preparatory and collegiate, from 
the young women of Beulah and other localities — a small number 
of whom we found ready for the Sophomore class : — and at the 
Commencement a little over a year hence, we expect to graduate 
some eight or ten young women, including Miss .Jordan, Miss Car- 
roll and Miss Martin, of our village. 

Miss Jordan, the first named of these, has, I think, overcome 
more difficulties in her pursuit of an education than any young 
person I ever knew. She is quite poor, and has a widowed 
mother who is an invalid, and therefore requires a' great deal of 
care and attention from her ; but in spite of all difficulties, she 
has maintained a very good standing in all her studies — her ability 
to do this seems almost a miracle to the Faculty — and, if her 
health does not fail, she will be prepared to graduate with honor 
and credit. I do not believe, however, that she could possibly 
have sustained the burdens that she has without the sympathy and 
friendly offices that she has received from her classmates, 
especially Miss Carroll and Miss Martin. 

Miss Carroll herself, I am certain, would have secured the 
Valedictory, on account her very high scholarship ; but when the 


PROMISE AND PROSPECT. 


85 


Trustees voted to admit young women to the privileges of the insti- 
tution, they also voted to discontinue all Commencement honors. 

[Did Mrs. Goodway prompt the Doctor to communicate to 
Elwood this information concerning her friend Alice?] 

I often think about your classmate, Homer Vernon. It is very 
hard for me to understand his departure from the Christian faith. 
My feeling toward him is very different from what I have toward 
other skeptics and unbelievers, and I often pray that he may yet 
be restored to that knowledge of the truth which he — I can not 
think otherwise — once possessed. Prof. Ironsides often speaks of 
him, and says he will never recover from the shock he received 
when he first learned that Homer Vernon had become an unbe- 
liever in the miracles of the Bible ! 

This letter is already longer than I expected it to be ; and I 
have not yet reached my principal object in writing to you. 

Mr. AVilliamson has resigned the pastorate of the Beulah Pres- 
byterian church, and has accepted a call to another field. His res- 
ignation is to take effect the first of April, just a month from the 
present date ; and, as your theological studies will be completed 
very soon after that time, I have talked to the Session and several 
other members of the church upon the question of inviting you 
to become their pastor ; and they all— especially those who knew 
you wdiile you were in College — seem highly pleased with the sug- 
gestion. Prof. Ironsides says that, although he would have pre- 
ferred to see you receive your theological training at Princeton 
Seminary rather than Union, he yet has no reason to doubt your 
orthodoxy on all essential points of doctrine, and as he has the 
fullest confidence in your ability to fill the pulpit satisfactorily, 
he urged me to write to you on the subject v/ithout delay. 

If you have not yet made any arrangements about your future ' 
work, let me request you not to do so at present, as I believe you 
will receive the call of this church — and I trust the Lord will 
direct you to accept it. 

From Your Sincercst Friend, 

JosiAii Goodway. 

P. S. Mrs. Goodway joins me in expressions of highest regard, 
and begs leave to express her hope that you will realize how prom- 
ising and inviting a field of labor you would find at Beulah. 

J. G. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HOPING AND HELPING. 

“Mother, there is nothing for me to do now, since 
you have gotten worse, and Mack has lost his place at Mr. 
Merchant’s, but give up my College course, although I am 
within only three months of graduating.” 

“I feel very sorry, Blanche,” replied Mrs. Jordan, 
trying hard to speak in a cheerful tone, as she lay on her 
sick bed. “ If I had only kept as well as I was and Mack 
hadn’t lost his pla^'e, it should not be so ; still, if you have 
to quit College now, you may be able to graduate next 
year.” 

“At any rate, mother,” said Blanche, with her usual 
quiet determination, “ I must not complain. My friends 
have been very kind to me ; but I don’t want them to help 
me any more, and I must earn something for us to live on.” 

The mother and daughter then proceeded to discuss 
every opportunity for employment that seemed to be open 
in the village ; but they could see nothing more encoura- 
ging for Blanche than her skill with the needle, to which 
she was largely indebted for the means of support she had 
heretofore secured — but she had very grave fears that her 
nervous system would not stand the strain of continued 
application to either needle or sewing machine. 

Blanche tried very hard to preserve her composure 
under the realization that she must postpone, if not entirely 
relinquish, her hope of graduating ; but the struggle was 


HOPING AND HELPING. 


87 


too severe for her, and, at length, she laid her head on her 
mother’s bed, and cried bitterly. 

But the darkest clouds often break away very sud- 
denly ; and, at the very moment when her spirit seemed 
most crushed, and her tears flowed most freely, she heard 
a knock at the door. 

Very hastily wiping her eyes, she responded to the 
summons, and was greatly embarrassed, on opening the 
door, to meet her Iriends, Alice Carroll and Clara Martin. 
They looked at Blanche’s face, and then at each other, but 
without uttering anything beyond the usual greeting, 
obeyed the invitation to enter. 

Both Alice and Clara had frequently been at Blanche’s 
home ; but there was now such a pressure of reserve upon 
their feelings, th^^t they unconsciously looked about the 
room, as they took the chairs that were offered them, as if 
this were their first acquaintance and first visit. 

Th^^y saw no richly furnish'^’d apartment, no shining 
rugs, or costly carpets, or damask curtains ; but every 
thing about the room gave sign and token of a neatness 
and refinement that could not fail to charm the eye of 
every friendly beholder. 

O, when will all men and women learn that the beauty 
of their homes does not consist in the abundance or the 
costliness of the “things” they possess? 

There is no human dwelling so humble, that it may 
not become a beautiful paradise ; there is no rough floor so 
rough, that it may not be made to shine with exceeding 
brightness ; there is no crust of bread so dry or so hard, 
that it may not be transformed into the manna of 
heaven : — if the angels of peace and order are invited to 
abide under our roofs ! 

There was comparative silence for a few minutes after 
the first greetings were o'’er, and they had entered Mrs. 
Jordan’s room to offer her their sympathy, when Alice 


88 


IIENKY ELWOOI). 


said, very gently and delicately: “ Blanche, we have feared 
since 5^our mother became so much feebler, that you 
would have so much to do, that you couldn’t keep along 
in your studies and prepare for Commencement — you’ll let 
us help you in taking care of your mother and your house- 
hold work, won’t you?” 

And Clara immediately added: “Indeed, Blanche, 
it is no more than we ought to do, when there are so many 
things demanding your time and attention. It will 
really be a pleasure to us to do what we can for you.” 

Blanche looked at them both very gratefully, and it 
was some minutes before she could answer them. At length 
she said, in faltering tones : “You have already been very 
* kind to me ; but it will be impossible for me to graduate 
this year, since my brother Mack has lost his place at Mr. 
Merchant’s store, and mother is so poorly. Mother and I 
were talking about it just before you carnein, and we both 
came to that conclusion.” 

“No, no, Blanche, you must not quit College,” said 
both Alice and Clara, rising up, and laying each a hand on 
Blanche’s shoulder, with a look of heartiest sympathy. 

. And presently Alice continued in a low voice: “Now, 
Blanche, you mustn’t be offended on account of what we 
have done. We have thought for some time past that you_ 
were working too hard and had too much care on your 
mind, but we didn’t see any way to relieve you. We con- 
sulted my father, and he at once said that any one making 
such an effort as you were making deserved both sympathy 
and financial help. He gave us enough to start a purse for 
you, and advised us to call upon Dr. Goodway and some 
other friends.” 

“O Alice,” said Blanche, in a very deprecating tone, 
“you didn’t do that; indeed, I would rather ” 

“ But would rather have you graduate with us, ” 
was the quick reply ; “ and we were careful not to call on 


HOPING AND HELIMNG. 


89 


any but your friends, and every one seemed so glad to 
help you. Dr. Goodway said it gave him the greatest 
possible pleasure to do something for you ; and Prof. Iron- 
sides told us, that, although he still feared the College wa.s 
not acting in strict accordance with the Scriptures in its 
admission of young women, he would very willingly con- 
tribute to help you complete your course, and he hoped 
you would secure a good situation after you graduated. 
Although we only called on a few of your friends, we have 
secured enough to enable you to graduate with the rest of 
us ; and Clara and I will help you take care of your mother, 
so you will have time to prepare for Commencement.” 

“If any one but you girls had done this,” said 
Blanche, her voice choking with feeling, “I would not 
accept the offered help. I hope you will never find me 
ungrateful to you and my other friends.” 

“ Never mind about about that, Blanche,” they both 
exclaimed. “You don’t know how much pleasure it gives 
us to do the little we have done for you.” 

“But, Alice,” continued Clara, after a very short 
pause, you haven’t told her every thing yet ” 

“ Knowing what good friends Mr. and Mrs Merchant 
have always been to your mother,” said Alice, “we called 
at their house to see, what they would like to do for you. 
Mrs. Merchant gave us $ — , and urged us to wait until 
Mr. Merchant returned from the store, as she expected him 
every minute, and she believed he would want to do some- 
thing for you, although he had recently discharged Mack 
from his store. When he came in, and we introduced the 
maUer to him, he seemed very thoughtful, and, after a few 
moment’s reflection, said he wanted to contribute liberally, 
as he feared he had been hasty in discharging Mack, much 
as the boy was to blame for carelessness. He said this in 
so serious a manner, that, without stopping to think, I 
looked him directly in the face and remarked that perhaps 


<»0 


IIKNRY KLWOOI). 


Mack would do better if he had another chance. As soon 
as I had spoken, I began to apologize for the liberty I had 
taken ; but he promptly stopped me by saying that he 
would consider that ; and before we left, he said to us : 
‘ You may tell Mrs. Jordan that I will come to see her one 
day this week, and if Mack shows the right disposition, I 
will either take him back or help him get another 
place ’ — and you know Mr. Merchant always does as he 
says he will.” 

“I am so grateful to you,” said Mrs. Jordan, rising 
from her pillow with fresh life and hope in her face; “I 
regretted very much to have Mack leave Mr. Merchant’s 
store ; and he has been so sorry that he lost his temper and 
wasn’t more careful about his work.” 

Mr. Merchant’s promise was made good, and a week 
later Mack returned to his store, and ever afterward proved 
a faithful and efficient clerk. 


A few days after the Commencement exercises, Mr. 
Carroll came into his house with a look of preat satisfac- 
tion, and, in response to his daughter’s inquiry as to the 
cause of it, said to her: “Alice, you have always desired 
to become a teacher ; and to-day two or three members of 
the School Board said to me that they would like very 
much to elect you to the vacancy in the High School, as 
they believed the education you have received would fully 
qualify you for the position.” 

“Yes, father, I have always wanted to be a teacher,” 
she replied, in a tone he was utterly unable to interpret ; 
“and this would be a very desirable position for me, 
but ” 

To which Mr. Carroll’s only reply was a look of 
disappointment and astonishment. 

“Don’t think me unappreciative or ungrateful, my 
dear father,” she said, rising up before him and throwing 


HOPING AND HELPING. 


91 


her arms around his neck ; “ but I have been thinking for 
some days that Blanche Jordan ougat to have that school, 
and I was just getting ready to go and see her and urge 
her to apply for it. She might secure as good a situation 
some other place, but her mother is so poorly and needs 
so much attention from her — don’t you think the Board 
would elect her, if you would recommend her?” 

“They surely would, Alice, if you were also there to 
plead her cause ! ” he responded, with a look of warmest 
admiration ; “ but do you think you ought to make such a 
sacrifice as this even for Blanche’s sake ? Can you hope 
for any reward that will justify you ? ” 

“ I can certainly hope that Blanche will fill the posi- 
tion satisfactorily — and will not the Lord open the way for 
whatever work he wishes me to do ? This has always been 

my hope and my confidence. You will let me tell 

Blanche that you will favor her application, won’t 
you, father?” 

“Thank heaven for such a daughter!” was his 
response, as he pressed her closely to his breast. 


CHAPTER XV. 


CREED AND CONFESSION. 

Beulah, November 1, 187-. 

My Dear Mother: 

Oae year of my labor as pastor of this church has just 
closed. It has certainly been a year of discipline and experience 
to me; and I trust I have been enabled to perform some service for 
the people. 1 have at least become very much attached to them; 
and they have given me a great many expressions of approval and 
encouragement in reference to my preaching and my pastoral 
work — and yet I am oppressed at times with the thought that I 
have accomplished so little in comparison with all that I would 
have liked to accomplish. 

I preached a sermon a few Sundays since in which I dwelt at 
some length on the infinite fullness of the divine love and the 
universality of the offer of salvation, and expressed my belief that 
Christ had made a sufficient atonement for the sins of the whole 
race, if they would only comply with the conditions of the gospel. 

I had no idea at the time that I was preaching anything that 
could even be construed as contrary to the soundest Presbyterian 
doctrine; but meeting Prof. Ironsides the next day, he gravely 
expressed the fear that the opponents of Calvinism would take 
advantage of my sermon, and he therefore urged me not to preach 
in any way that is calculated to impair the Calvinistic system of 
doctrine as embodied in our Confession of Faith. 

“What part of the Confession,” I asked, “did my sermon 
deny or contradict?” 

“0,1 will not say,” he replied, “ that you have done this 
directly; but I fear the tendency of your preaching is to under- 
mine rather than build up, our Calvinistic system, especially ” — 
here he looked me in the face very seriously — “ in view of the fact 
that you haven’t preached a strictly doctrinal sermon since you 
began your ministry.” 

“His tone and manner were so serious, although not 
unfriendly, that I have been thinking on the subject ever since. 


CREED AND CONFESSION. 


9S 

and have studied the Confession of Faith more since that time 
than in all my life before. I have examined every chapter and 
section of the book very carefully, remembering my solemn dec- 
laration of belief that it “ comprises the system of doctrine taught 
in the Holy Scriptures,” and have given special attention to the 
two sections which state that “ some men and angels are predesti- 
nated unto everlasting life and others foreordained to everlasting 
death,” and that the number of these “is so certain and definite 
that it cannot be increased or diminished.” 

I called on Dr. Goodway a few days after my interview with 
Pi'of. Ironsides, and pointing out these two sections frankly told 
him I could not reconcile them with the many passages in the 
Bible offering salvation and eternal life to all who will repent of 
their sins, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and walk in the 
paths of wisdom and I’ighteousness. 

“ Why, really, Mr. Elwood,” he said, after reading the two 
sections very carefully and slowly, “those statements are very 
strong and rigid, more so than I have supposed; but we must 
interpret them by the other portions of the Confession, and we 
must also bear in mind that the doctrine of election, like other 
Scriptural doctrines, is full of mystery. Have you noticed that 
the eighth section of this same chapter admonishes us that “ the 
doctrine of this high mystery of predestination is to be handled 
with special prudence and care?” 

“ But, Dr. Goodway,” I replied, “these sections seem to me 
both unreasonable and uniust, and how am I to avow my belief in 
them?” 

“Perhaps, Mr. Elwood,” he answered smilingly, “you are sim- 
ply wrestling with the everlasting difficulty of reconciling the 
Divine Sovereignty v/ith man’s free agency and responsibility. This 
problem has a great many phases, and no one has ever fully solvtd 
it. Besides” — he added, with a slight twinkle — “the Westminster 
divines were not infallible ; and it would be very strange if no 
progress had been made in our theology and our interpretation of 
the Scriptures in the space of two hundred years ! ” 

“Very true,” I replied, “but I have given my solemn sub- 
scription to the Confession.” 

“But you must also remember,” he said, “that you are 
commissioned to preach the Gospel to every creature, and if you 
are faithful to this trust, you can surely maintain your position 
as a Presbyterian minister without a violation of your ordination 
vows.” 

“ That is what I desire above all things,” I answered. 

“ And let me say for your encouragement,” he continued. 


1»4 


HKNRY ELWOOD. 


that your ministry is proving very acceptable. We have very 
little difficulty in getting the students to attend churo.h since you 
came, and besides the increase in the membership of the church, 
your congregations seem to be growing larger all the time.” 

I believe I have heretofore written to you concerning my 
acquaintance with Mr. Allison, the Episcopal Rector in this place. 
He is only four or five years older than I am, and our relations are 
very cordial and confidential ; so that we can converse on all topics 
relating to our work with perfect freedom. When I stated my 
difficulties with the Confession to him 1 was completely surprised 
at the manner in which he answered me: 

“Why, Elwood,” he said, almost playfully, “You will have to 
treat your Confession as we do the Thirty-nine Articles.” 

I was too much surprised to inquire at first what he meant, 
and as if in anticipation of my inquiry, after a moment’s pause, 
he continued: “ We let them stand as written, and seek to give 
them the proper interpretation.” 

Seeing my increased surprise he assumed a more serious tone 
and added: “ There is no other proper course for thinking men to 
take, and our church wisely allows us great latitude in this 
respect.” 

“But, Allison, how is it possible,” I asked, “ to interpret these 
sections of the Confession, so they will mean anything else than 
what they manifestly do mean? ” 

“ Your Confession is more extreme in its Calvinism than our 
seventeenth article,” he said, in reply, “but neither your creed nor 
ours can be said to contain the last word on any theological ques- 
tion, and neither of them even pretends to solve all the mysteries 
of the diviue government. Our only truly reverent course, there- 
fore, is to give them the most reasonable interpretation we can, 
always remembering the words of St. Paul, * For the letter killeth, 
but the spirit giveth life! ’ ” 

“But is thei-e not danger of our becoming deceivers in this 
way,” I inquired, “both self-deceivers and deceivers of the 
people ?” 

“There is danger of this,” he quickly replied, “ if we are ‘ of 
the earth, earthy ; ’ but not, if like St. Paul, v/e can truly say, 
‘ And herein do 1 exercise myself, to have a conscience void, of offense 
toward God and toward men.’ ” 

“ As I made no direct answer to this, he presently continued : 

“Are you not aware, Elwood, that it is no easy matter to 
preach the doctrine of election as Calvin preached it? ” 

“ You will have to tell me what you mean by that, Allison,” I 
responded. 


CREED AND CONFESSION. 


95 


“ We may easily use the same language and terms that he 
used, and still fail of the essence of the doctrine. Calvin empha- 
sized the relation of the individual soul — rather of the elect soul — 
to the Infinite Father, and based that relation on the plans and 
counsels that are from all eternity. It was a noble conception, but 
there is great danger of making it a mere gospel of partiality and 
favoritism, instead of a means of spiritual inspiration and quick- 
ening. We must not exalt the Divine Sovereignty at the expense 
(if I may use that term) of the Divine Love and Goodness. In 
short, the doctrine of election should be spiritually discerned and 
spiritualhj preached — if preached at all,” he added, with a smile. 

If almost any other person had expressed himself to me in 
this way, I would have seriously doubted his integrity; but as I 
know Allison lo be a sincere and earnest minister, I could not but 
think his counsel very valuable to me, and I so expressed myself 
to him. 

I will try to comply with your request to write you concerning 
the three young women of Beulah, in whom you have become in- 
terested from what 1 have told you about them. 

Miss Martin is at home, and is somewhat noted for the active 
part she takes in all the services of the Methodist church, and for 
such charitable and benevolent work as is called for in the village. 
She appears to be the special friend of every one that is sick or in 
distress, and is almost wholly absorbed in her labor for others. 

Miss Jordan is teaching in the Beulah High School, and I am 
glad to learn is very efficient and successful. She has won quite 
a reputation for the perfect order and discipline of her school, 
which has been secured in such an easy and quiet manner. 

Miss Carroll has been hearing some recitations in the prepar- 
atory department of the College; and I think at the next meeting 
of the Trustees will be elected to a permanent position. Although 
she is a member of the Episcopal church, she nearly always attends 
my Wednesday night prayer-meetings and manifests a lively inter- 
est in all the exercises, especially in the remarks that I usually 
make on the Scriptural lesson. Although I always try to prepare 
for this service with reference to the entire audience, I can not 
help thinking of her probable presence and feeling anxious to 
ofifer such remarks as she will appreciate and approve. I have 
almost fancied that she unconsciously helps me to understand 
what will be most acceptable and profitable to the people, although 
I have no acquaintance with her that would justify me in asking 
any counsel from her. 

I am not certain that she has ever expressed any approval in 
words ; but her face always reveals an interest that is very grateful 


1)6 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


and inspiring to me; and if she were an attendant at my Sunday 
services, I know not how much influence she might have on my 
sermons. 

It is pretty generally thought that she and Allison will at 
some time form a matrimonial engagement, if they have not 
already done so. I know Allison has a very high opinion of her; 
but he has never spoken to me as if there were any engagement or 
understanding between them. Still he confers with her frequently 
about the affairs of his parish, and surely bids fair to win her 
affection, if he has not already won it.” 

I received a letter from Vernon a short time since, stating 
that he was about to locate at Excelsior, as he believed the capital 
city of our State would furnish an excellent field for the practice 
of his profession. Miss Martin, I am informed, scarcely ever 
alludes to him, but I know that she carries a feeling of deep sad- 
ness on account of the breaking of their engagement. 1 do not 
believe either of them will ever many any one else. 

Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Elwood. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


WHY AND WHEREFORE? 

Elwood had been preaching at Beulah about three and 
a half years, when he and his friend Allison were 
taking an afternoon stroll of two or three miles into the 
country. After more or less discussion of politics, cur- 
rent news and various commercial and social questions, as 
they sat down by the roadside their thoughts turned to 
their professional work. 

Elwood was the first to speak ; ‘ ‘ Allison, after all 

my efforts, how little I have accomplished during the time 
I have been at Beulah ! Do all preachers feel this way, or 
is it because I am such an essentially unprofitable ser- 
vant ? ” 

“Would it be a desirable thing for you to feel satis- 
fied with your work, especially at such an early date in 
your ministry ? ” was Allison’s rather unexpected reply, 
and then he added: “I have known quite a number of 
young preachers to have their usefulness for life impaired 
by their ‘ success ’ — or rather their conceit of success — in 
the first years of their work. But at the same time you 
have no reason to feel discouraged. You have had a 
number of accessions to your church ; your congregations 
are quite large, and you have hosts of friends, both in 
your church and the community. If I did not fear you 
would accuse me of flattery, I would pronounce your min- 
istry eminently successful and useful.” 

“And still,” said Elwood, “I feel at times that I have 


98 


HEXRY ELWOOD. 


done nothing for the cause of Christ that is worth men- 
tioning. My sermons do not always take hold of the 
people as I would wish ; and very often the other services 
seem like a burden both to myself and the congrega- 
tion. What would I do, if I had to render the Episcopal 
service every Sunday?” 

Allison smiled very pleasantly at this sally, and then 
replied: “If you will let me relate a little of my expe- 
rience. perhaps I could give you a hint in reference to your 
formal services that would be of some value to you.” 

“Certainly,” replied Elwood, with some eagerness, 
“any light on the subject will be gratefully received,” 

“Notwithstanding my appreciation of the beauty of 
our service,” Allison responded, “after I had preached in 
Beulah two or three years, I began to realize that I was 
rendering it in a sing-song or very monotonous tone, that 
savored much more of perfunctory performance than of 
devout worship — will you let me inform you how I first 
learned the secret of giving vitality to our service?” 

Elwood quickly smiled his assent, and Allison contin- 
ued: “You know what an active and faithful parishioner 
Miss Carroll is? ” 

This was not put in the tone of formal inquiry ; but 
Elwood unconsciously nodded an affirmative response. 
He had frequently heard Allison speak of her in connec- 
tion with his parish work ; but this time there was a flutter 
in his breast that he tried very hard, to suppress, and only 
partially succeeded in doing so. 

Without noticing this or the fact that Elwood was 
paying very close attention to him Allison went on : “She 
has one of the largest classes in our Sunday School, and is 
a regular attendant at the Sunday service ; in which I have 
always found her a devout and intelligent participant. Her 
voice always seemed so clear and expressive, and so free 
from the peculiar tone I was trying to overcome in myself. 


WHY AND WHEREFORE? 


95 ) 


that in talking to her upon the subject, I frankly stated my 
difficulty, and rather playfully asked her if she could pre- 
scribe a remedy.” 

“ To my surprise she promptly answered that she 
could suggest none but a thorough and devout study of 
the service every week. I replied to this that I pretty 
nearly knew the Prayer-book by heart, and sometimes 
feared I knew it too well. Then she told me that she could 
never get her Sunday School class interested in the lesson 
unless she studied it over very carefully before assuming to 
teach it. and she thought a minister could make the service 
more interesting in the same way, as people all liked to 
drink water fresh from the fountain.” [And still Allison 
did not notice how intently Elwood was listening to his 
narrative.] “ Handing her the Prayer-book I asked her to 
read some portions of it, which she did in so expressive a 
tone that she furnished me a new revelation of the beauty 
and richness of our liturgy and the use that can be made 
of it in quickening and edifying a congregation of wor- 
shipers. Her conception was so clear, so vivid, I might 
almost say so glorious ! ” 

“And did you carry out her suggestion?” asked 
Elwood. 

“It was put so pertinently,” Allison reponded, “ that 
I resolved to give it a test. I found it very hard to break 
up the bad habit I had formed ; but I have at least learned 
that the more I study the service over and the more I can 
make it expressive of my freshest and most spiritual 
thoughts and feelings, the more acceptable it is to my con- 
gregation — and now if some one would tell me how to 
vitalize my preaching, I would surely be grateful.” 

“ I am very glad,” said Elwood, “ that you claim no 
monopoly of Miss Carroll’s ‘ revelation ’ ; and why should it 
not apply to the Presbyterian formal services?” 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


H)(t 

" ‘ It certainly does, ” was the reply, ‘ ‘ and I have given 
you the full benefit of it.” 

Allison’s tone throughout this conversation indicated 
very plainly that he felt an interest in Miss Carroll far 
beyond that which a clergyman is bound to feel for any of 
his parishioners, and that he would fain secure from her a 
much larger interest in his life and ministry than she had 
ever yet manifested. He said no more to Elwood con- 
cerning her, but when alone in his room that night he 
thus soliloquized : 

“Why is it that while she is so frank, so cordial, so 
sympathetic I may almost say, that I am utterly unable to 
express to her the interest I feel in her and my high 
appreciation of her intellect and character ? Pleasant as 
our acquaintance has been, I can not even claim the right 
to feel a special attachment to her — much less love and 
affection. No, I must not say love ; but I must find out 
whether she cares anything for me, and whether she 
will reciprocate the interest I feel in her.” 

Why were Allison’s feelings in reference to Miss Car- 
roll wrought to such a painful tension by his interview with 
Elwood ? 

He certainly knew not the cause himself ; and he had 
not the shadow of a thought that his friend might be 
unconsciously standing between himself and the prize he 
coveted. 

But is not many a maiden controlled in the current of 
her affections by a force that she wots not ! 


CHAPTER XVII. 


STRIFE AND STRUGGLE. 

The First Presbyterian church of Excelsior, capital of 

the State of X , was one of its oldest institutions. Soon 

after the close of the war the old structure had been torn 
down, and a new one, more substantial and more capa- 
cious, had been erected in its place. The building was 
only two or three squares from the State House, and it 
was fitted up in a style that satisfied the tastes of the 
richest families of the city. 

And there was a goodly number of these families 
upon the rolls of this church’s membership. There were 
people within its folds who had begun life on small means 
or none at all, and who had worked, and saved, and pros- 
pered in business, and made investments when property 
was cheap, and had accumulated large amounts ; there 
were men who had speculated in corner lots and railroad 
stocks, and whose ventures had proved successful beyond 
their highest expectations ; men who had inherited large 
fortunes, and had doubled and trebled the same by care 
and sagacity ; men of large business capacity, who had 
combined their means in manufactories and other enter- 
prises, and had thereby added very largely to their own 
wealth and that of the city. 

But there were also people in this church with whom 
Fortune had not dealt so kindly ; those who had labored 
hard and had “accumulated” little or nothing; those who 
had invested to no profit ; those who had traded and spec- 


102 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


ulated and lost all ; those whose lives had been a constant 
battle with adversity, and whose strength was well-nigh 
exhausted in the incessant and hopeless struggle. Whether 
all these were victims of improvidence, or of direct misfor- 
tune, or of inexplicable fate, we do not assume to say; we only 
wish to record the fact that the membership of this church 
comprised some people that were very rich and others 
that were very poor, as well as some that were compara- 
tively rich and some that were comparatively poor. 

Was it possible for them to meet together every Sun- 
day and worship their common Lord and Master, with 
minds free from all envy and strife and bitterness ? 

It was only during the last few years that such an 
issue had arisen in this church. Previous to the war, 
although the membership were not all rich, and not all 
poor, they were not conscious of any distinction among 
themselves in respect to wealth or earthly possessions. 
During the war a number of families in the church were 
started on the high road to wealth ; but there was such a 
unity of patriotic sentiment among all the members of the 
church and congregation, that no lines of social distinc- 
tion appeared to be drawn. 

Rut when the war closed, and these fortunes contin- 
ued to increase — when the prosperous families built larger 
houses and assumed the “ style ” and manners of a city 
aristocracy — it was impossible for either them or the poorer 
classes not to feel conscious of a serious barrier to their 
united worship in the sanctuary of the Lord. 

Dr. James Bascom was pastor of the church for 
nearly forty years, previous to his death, which occurred a 
few years after the close of the war; and although the 
dividing line between the rich and the poor began to be 
Visible before he died, they all held him in great venera- 
tion, and their tears of sincerest grief were mingled over 
* hi^ remains. 


STRIFE AXD STRUGGLE. 


10;:J 

After Dr. Bascom’s death the church was “supplied” 
by various ministers for a couple of years; and then by a 
unanimous vote, Mr. Arthur Raymond was invited to the 
pastorate. 

Raymond had served the village church of Eureka for 
ten full years, with marked earnestness and faithfulness ; 
and his abilities were recognized as fully equal to the 
demands of the Excelsior church. Although he was 
scrupulously careful to keep within the pale of orthodoxy, 
his preaching had a decided flavor of originality ; and it 
was very generally remarked of him, that he did his own 
thinking, and was not afraid to express what he thought 
or believed. 

Although he had views on many religious and other 
topics that his people did not fully accept, he generally 
expressed them in such a way as to avoid offense ; and his 
people had such respect for his honesty and integrity, that 
his relations with them were always pleasant and cordial. 

In his peculiar and forcible style he denounced pro- 
fanity, drunkenness, licentiousness, covetousness, false- 
hood, selfishness, and all other forms of evil, and always 
found his church on his side and ready to sustain him in 
his utterances ; and very deeply did they regret his accep- 
tance of the call to Excelsior. 

' For a few weeks, for a few months, for almost a year, 
after Raymond came to his new charge, everything moved 
along smoothly and very pleasantly ; and if his individual 
views and peculiarities had been limited to theological 
questions, he might have enjoyed the same even tenor of 
ministerial life that he did at Eureka. But for a few years 
past he had given some attention to socialistic questions ; 
and he came to the city with certain views, or more prop- 
erly feelings, that assumed a very tenacious hold of his 
mind before he had preached in the city a twelvemonth. 

He had never seen much of city life; but he had read 


104 


IIEXKY ELWOOD. 


a great deal about the glaring inequality of circumstances 
and conditions that is to be seen in all great cities ; and 
when he came to Excelsior and found the reality so much 
greater than any conception he had ever formed, his heart 
was sore, and he felt a burning, almost a consuming, desire 
to provide a remedy for what he considered such mon- 
strous injustice. 

And he was especiallj’ burdened with the question 
how far his church was responsible for the evil that was 
patent to his eyes. Even when he limited his observation 
to his own membership, he was pained to see many of them 
all the while surrounded with luxury and abundance, while 
those whom they called their brethren and sisters in the 
Lord were struggling with their utmost strength to secure 
a comfortable livelihood — some of them failing even in 
this. These feelings were painfully increased whenever 
he contemplated the aggregate of poverty and destitution 
in the city, which he was so powerless to relieve. 

As he became acquainted with the rich families of his 
church, he was much grieved to see the ill-disguised con- 
tempt v/hich many of them felt toward the “laboring 
classes,” whose bodies and souls, in Raymond’s eyes, were 
just as valuable as those of the rich and the powerful. 

He thought, he brooded, he prayed over these things, 
and then began to preach about them, his first discourse 
being a discussion of the much mooted question, “ Why 
do not the masses attend church?” Various causes, par- 
ticular and general, were considered and dwelt upon ; and 
at the close an urgent appeal was made to the people to 
take home the question, whether as a church and as indi- 
viduals, they were doing all they could to bring the people 
of the city, and especially the poor, within the hearing of 
the Gospel. 

All this was listened to with perfect decorum and 
respect; and even the wealthiest and most stylish families 


strifp: and struggle. 


lOo 

stepped out of the church and into their carriages, which 
were in waiting in the steeet, without taking offense. 

But Raymond did not stop at this. The next Sunday 
the same point was urged a little more directly, and the 
next Sunday still more so, the preacher even going so far 
as to intimate that Christian women ought to encourage- 
their “ domestics” to attend the services of the church. 

Soon after this a “strike” occurred — on account of a 
reduction of wages — among the laborers in a manufactur- 
ing establishment, in which two of his elders were stock- 
holders, and a half-dozen of his members were employes. 
The men .complained that their wages were already too 
low for them to live comfortably, and that the proposed 
reduction would deprive them of very many necessaries of 
life. The corporation insisted that they were losing money, 
and that they must either reduce expenses or shut down 
altogether. Raymond’s sympathies were with the work- 
men to such an extent, perhaps, as to warp his judgment ; 
and the best information he got convinced him that the 
management, at best, were more anxious to pay large 
dividends on their stock than to give liberal wages to their 
men. He was so decided in this opinion, which was inten- 
sified by visits to the homes of some of the workmen, that 
he expressed it quite freely to a number of persons, by 
whom it was reported to his stockholding elders. 

A discussion was started in the daily papers of the 
city; and in response to a communication, in which the 
Labor Unions of the city were pretty severely criticised 
for their unreasonable demands, Raymond took up his 
pen in their behalf, and wrote a very pungent article, in 
which he reminded capitalists that all their wealth was the 
result of labor, and expres.sed the hope that some remedy 
might be devised for the “alarming concentration of 
wealth in the hands of a few.” 

The article to which Raymond replied had a fictitious 


106 


JIEXKY ELW( )()[). 


signature; but it was written by Col. Peabody, who had 
“interests” in nearly all the leading manufactories of the 
city, and was considered ‘ ‘ the richest man in the First 
Presbyterian church and from that time it began to be 
whispered among certain members of the church that 
their minister was a “socialist.” 

Raymond’s course very naturally raised him quite a 
following among the laboring classes, and numbers of 
them began to attend his church services, besides giving 
him many other marks of their approval. He was not 
blind to the fact that his peculiarly friendly relations with 
this class were arousing a good deal of suspicion in the 
minds of his richer members, but he would have regarded 
a suggestion to pay heed to this fact as a temptation of 
Satan ; and the friendship manifested toward him by the 
various societies and organizations of laboring men caused 
him to show' more and more interest in them and in every 
“issue” that was raised betw'een them and their em- 
ployers. 

The Session of the church did not object — they surely 
were not conscious of such an objection— to his laboring 
ever so earnestly for the moral and spiritual welfare of 
these people ; but they were “ surprised ” when a score or 
more mechanics and laboring men, with their wives, pre- 
sented themselves in one body for examination and admis- 
sion to the church. 

They w'ere all admitted by a unanimous vote of the 
Session ; but it was the beginning of the end for poor Ray- 
mond ! 

Henceforth there w-ere tw'o parties in the church, not 
knowm as the rich and the poor, by any means, but as the 
“ majority ” and the “ minorit}' ;” and for some time there 
was a steady increase in the numbers of the “majority.” 

The “minority” accused their minister of slighting 
them and trying to “ crow'd them out of the church,” not- 


STRIFE AND STRUGGLE. 


107 


notwithstanding the large sums they had contributed to 
his support and to building the new church edifice. Very 
many of them threatened to cancel their subscriptions and 
withdraw from the church ; but such threats could have no 
influence on a man thoroughly devoted to “principle” and 
incapable of any consideration of mere worldly advantage. 

An election of ruling elder was to be held, and the ‘ ‘ ma- 
jority” selected a mechanic named Harris as their candi- 
date. The “minority” claimed that Harris had only been 
in the church a short time, and that he was too anxious to 
push himself forw^ard over the heads of older members. 
Raymond believed that the election of Harris might be 
the means of securing the conversion of many more labor- 
ing men and getting them into the church ; which remark 
caused Deacon Simpkinson rather impatiently to reply : 
“We don’t want any more laboring men in our church — 
we have too many of them there already.” 

Harris was elected and ordained as elder in spite of 
the muffled protests of the “ minority ” — and the Avar was 
on ! 

Simpkinson ’s remark was quoted far and wide, and 
had its very natural effect in stirring up resentment and 
bitterness in the breasts of the “majority.” He tried to 
explain by stating that he had ahvays been glad to see all 
classes in the church, but he didn’t like to see new mem- 
bers assume control and “crowd out the pillars of the 
church.” 

But this only provoked additional comment, and 
caused several neAv members to remark that there ‘ ‘ were 
too many such men as John Simpkinson in the church, and 
that he ought to resign his office as ruling elder,” with 
many remarks of like tenor in reference to other very rich 
men in the church. 

And Raymond was held responsible for all these 
utterances ! 


lOS 


HENRY ELWOOl). 


As yet he saw no signs of danger to himself — he was 
in the right, he was fully assured, and more than two-thirds 
of the church were with him ! But the one-third, or rather 
a fraction of a third, held the purse strings ; and they 
quietly made up their minds that Raymond must “go; ” 
and accordingly sarcasm and innuendo and every conceiv- 
able device was employed to make his position as uncom- 
fortable as possible. 

Smarting under these annoyances, Raymond asked his 
wife one day what he could do to relieve himself of such 
persecution. 

It occurred to her that her husband might find some 
means to come to a better understanding with his oppo- 
nents ; but Raymond had never learned to consult his wife 
that he might have the benefit of her individual opinion, 
and so she checked her “ impulse” to express this feeling, 
and instead remarked to him in a very kind and sympa- 
thetic tone: “How unkindly they are treating you, 
Arthur, after all your labors to build up the church ! ” 

“It is because I am trying to preach the Gospel to 
the poor,” he replied, in a tone appealing for a still larger 
measure of her womanly sympathy. 

“I fear such is the case, Arthur, and that you are 
indeed persecuted for your obedience to the Saviour’s com- 
mand,” she answered, very tenderly. Then they reviewed 
and ;r-reviewed every grievance and slight and criticism 
that he had suffered for months past, until Raymond was 
worked up to such intensity of feeling, that he felt it to be 
his duty — he was not influenced, he fully persuaded him- 
self, by any sense of personal injury — to preach a sermon 
on the subject the next Sunday, that-the people might all 
see how much opposition he was encountering in his work, 
and how much he was suffering for his devotion to his 
Master’s cause. 

“The people ought to know all that you have had to 


STRIFE AND STRUdGEE. 10!>’ 

bear, Arthur, but I hope you won’t say anything to make 
more enemies than you now have ! ” remarked poor Mrs. 
Raymond. 

The sermon was prepared and delivered accordingly. 
The greater part of Raymond’s friends commended him 
for his courage and boldness, but others shook ther heads 
and said they “feared the consequences.” 

The “consequences” were, that during the week a 
number of the very rich men notified the Trustees that 
they would contribute nothing more to the support of the 
church while Raymond was its Pastor ; and at the services 
on the following Sunday thereafter 'a large number of 
families were “conspicuous by their absence.” 

Raymond struggled hard to maintain his position — 
solely for the sake of the “ principle ” involved both he 
and his friends believed — but although a majority in (num- 
bers) of the church stood by him to the last, in less than a 
year from the delivery of the fatal discourse, after consult- 
ing a number of his ministerial brethren, he resigned his 
pastorate for a more congenial field of labor. 

And then the First Presbyterian church of Flxcelsior 
began to cast their eyes about, if haply they might find a 
more acceptable preacher and pastor ! 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


“LIVE AND LEARN!” 

“Josiah, you don’t think that Herbert Allison and 
Alice Carroll are ever likely to marry, do you?” asked 
Mrs. Goodway of her husband one Sunday evening, after 
they had spent half an hour or more reviewing Elwood’s 
ministry of nearly four years at Beulah and discussing his 
prospects for usefulness in the future. 

“I have no power of divination in such matters,” was 
his prompt reply; “but I should consider such an event 
as not at all unlikely ; for he is an excellent fellow in every 
respect, just such a man as Miss Carroll would be inclined 
to accept. Indeed, it is generally understood that they 
are already engaged — but, of course, I do not know 
whether such is the case or not.” 

‘ ‘ I almost knoiv it is not, ” she said, with some energy ; 
“ the last time I saw Alice, I spoke of Mr. Allison in such 
a way that if she had been engaged to him, she would have 
shown some signs of it. Of course, she highly respects 
him, and enjoys his society on account of his rare conver- 
sational powers, but nothing more — nothing more, I feel 
very certain ! ” 

“But Allison would like very much to marry her, 
Hannah — I guess there can be no doubt on that point.” 

“That may be,” she answered, in a tone no less em- 
phatic than before ; “but he can never secure her, if Henry 
El wood ” 

“You don’t mean that Elwood would wish to become 


'‘LIVE AND LEAIJN!” 


Ill 


Allison’s rival in such a matter as this ? Their close friend- 
ship, if nothing else, would forbid it.” 

Assuming a lower tone, Mrs Goodway presently 
responded : “ When I spoke to Alice about Mr. Allison, I 
also took the liberty to ask her, in a very casual way, how 
she liked Mr. Elwood’s preaching; and she replied that she 
had never heard him preach, although she had frequently 
attended his Wednesday night prayer-meetings. I then 
urged her to come and hear him some Sunday, and she 
promised to do so during Mr. Allison’s coming vacation — 
and did you notice that she was there to-day, both morn- 
ing and evening ? ” 

‘'Did she seem much interested?” said the Doctor, 
rather playfully. 

“You would surely have thought so, if }'ou had 
watched her as closely as I did, ” was her ready response ; 
“and I was very glad Mr. Elwood preached as eloquently 
as he did. If she could only hear him preach regularly, 
I am certain she would admire his eloquence; for there 
are very few more eloquent preachers than Mr. Elwood, 
at least among those of his age ! ” 

The Doctor making no reply to this, in a few mo- 
ments she continued: “Josiah, I have some fears that 
Mr. Elwood will not stay in Beulah very much longer!” 

“What makes you think that?” he asked, in a tone 
of unaffected surprise. “ His ministry has been very suc- 
cessful; the people are all satisfied with him; and he has 
already won an enviable reputation, not only in our Pres- 
bytery, but throughout the Synod of X .” 

“That is just what makes me fear he will be called to 
some larger place,” she responded — and then handed him 
the last copy of the New York Evangelist, which stated 
that the P'irst Presbyterian church of E^xcelsior had appoin- 
ted a special committee to secure a Pastor to fill the vacancy 
occasioned by the resignation of Arthur Raymond. 


112 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


The Doctor read the item very slowly, and then 
remarked: “I feel very sorry for Raymond. He is a 
worthy and excellent man ; but his trouble at Excelsior 
has culminated in about the way I expected it would. If 
that church were harmonious, it would be a very inviting 
field ; but in its present condition, I don’t believe Elwood 
would go there at any salary that might be offered him." 

“But you know, Josiah, what ‘inducements’ those 
rich churches always offer when they want to secure a min- 
ister. I dont’t think myself that Mr. Elwood would go to 
Excelsior merely on account of the larger salary ; but if 
they should give him a call, they would appeal to his sense 
of duty as well as his professional pride and ambition ; and 
if he felt it to be his duty to go to them, nothing that we 
could say or do would prevent his going. Don’t you 
believe they would urge him to accept their call, because 
their church is in such an unfortunate condition?” 

“Well, Hannah,” he said, endeavoring to suppress 
the uneasy feeling which her words and tone had aroused 
in his mind, “Elwood will not leave Beulah until he 
receives a call to some other place ; and I do not believe 
he would accept a call even to a large and growing city 
like Excelsior without the most prayerful consideration.” 

“ But don’t you know that ‘ prayerful consideration ’ 
nearly always takes the minister to the larger field?” she 
quickly responded — and, after a moment’s reflection: “I 
know of but one thing that would prevent Mr. Elwood’s 
leaving Beulah, if he should be called to Excelsior — he 
tnust get better acquainted with Alice Carroll ! ”. 

“ Beware of exercising any offices in that direction, 
Hannah,” he said, very pleasantly, — “but if you could 
do anything that is strictly ‘lawful’ to prevent Elwood’s 
ever leaving Beulah, I would not object to your doing it.” 

Three or four weeks after the above conversation 


I13 


“LIVE AND LEARN!” 

between Dr, Goodway and his wife, Klwood wrote to his 
mother : 


Beulah, August 1, 187-. 

!M Y Deak Mothei! : 

I know that you appreciate the extent of my ministerial labors; 
but even this is not sufficient excuse for my delay in answering 
your last letter. 

The longer I preach the more I realize the need of divine 
guidance m all things. I have so many different classes of people 
to deal with, and I meet so many questions demanding the exer- 
cise of my best reason and judgment, that I have been led to pray 
every day for light and wisdom. But hoAv important it is for me 
to put away all guile and conceit and selfisliness ! It is so easy for 
a preacher to deceive himself and to think he is following the 
direction of the Holy Spirit, when he is only gratifying his own 
pride or pursuing his own advantage. 

I am glad that Mr. Edwards is not seriously alarmed about my 
difficulties with the Confession of Faith. My study of the Chapter 
that gave me so much trouble has brought me to the conclusion, 
that the mysteries of the divine government are too deep to be 
fathomed by the human mind, and that, while the statements of 
the Confession may seem crude and unreasonable, they yet em- 
body the great truth of Divine Sovereignty ; and I am certain that 
I yield to no one in my adherence to that truth — even if I can not 
accept all the defimtiom of the Confession as final. The imperfec- 
tion of human language and the imperfection of the human under- 
standing, it seems to me, alike prove the impossibility of framing 
a perfeci statement or explanation of that doctrine — it is so deep, 
so vast, so incomprehensible 1 

I sincerely trust that I have come to the right conclusion con- 
cerning these sections of the Confession of Faith ; but I should 
shudder at the thought of going through the same process with 
reference to any other portions of it. The thought has troubled 
me not a little, that I would not wish to express all my conclusions 
to my people, at least not in the public congregation ; and I 
should certainly fear to have all the members of our Presbytery 
know' how' much liberty I have taken in construing the Confession, 
lest they should pronounce me heterodox, if not unfaithful to my 
ministerial obligations. Still, I feel that if my church fully under- 
stood my views and my motives, they w'ould not wish me to resign 
my pastorate ; and I don’t think even Prof. Ironsides would say I 
ought to withdraw from the Presbyterian church ! I certainly 
ought not to be counted disloyal, because I have sought to con- 


114 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


strue one Chapter of the Confession in harmony with the other 
Chapters and with the Bible and reason. 

Miss Carroll has been elected to a permanent position in the 
preparatory department of the College ; and all the students, male 
and female, that recite to her, speak in the highest possible terms ' 
of her qualifications as a teacher. She is particularly noted for 
the faculty she has of getting aU her pupils interested in their 
studies and of sustaining that interest constantly. 

I have often told you of her attendance at my Wednesday 
night prayer-meetings and the interest she manifests in the 
exercises; but long as I have been preaching in Beulah, she never 
attended any of my Sunday services until this summer, when 
my friend Allison went east on a vacation. She came to my church 
the first Sunday of his absence, and has been there every Sunday 
since. I suppose I may count on her attendance at every service 
until Allison’s return, which will be two or three weeks hence. 

I can not say that I have preached better on account of her 
presence, but I can say that her attention and interest has been a 
wonderful inspiration to me both in preaching and conducting 
the other services. It is an influence that I can not quite under- 
stand, and I don’t think that she herself is conscious of it — but it 
is none the less real on that account. 

Much as I might desire an expression of her interest in words, 

I have never felt free to say anything to her concerning my own 
preaching ; and she seems to avoid making any allusion to it when 
we meet— which, however, is very seldom. Her reserve on this 
point is quite a mystery to me, as she generally expresses herself 
with the utmost freedom and frankness. 

[Ah, Elwood, you have not yet learned that the more you 
become acquainted with the opposite sex, the more mysterious 
they will be to j'ou ! — else how could they prove forever interesting 

But, mother, if I appreciatt^d and admired Miss Carroll even 
more highly than I do, I could not seek a more intimate aci^uain- 
tance with her than 1 have — still less must I indulge in any tender 
sentiment toward her. If she is not already engaged to Allison, 
he both loves and admires her, and is every way worthy of her. 
My friendship for him and my self-respect both forbid me to feel 
any more interest in her than my acquaintance with her has caused 
me to feel. 

I received a letter from Vernon a few days ago, in which he 
stated that the First Presbyterian church in Excelsior h,ad been 
Without a minister for several weeks, and that they were very anx- 
ious to secure one who could unite the opposing factions into 
w'^ ich th- y have been divided, and preach in a manner acceptable to 


“LIVE a:ND LEARX!” lir> 

both. Two or three members of the special committee had spoken 
to him about me, and he had advised them, by all means, to give 
me a call, and assured them that I would prove the very man they 
want. I sincerely trust they wdl not do it; for however I might 
feel honored by such a call, I have several years’ work before me 
here — [are you certain, Henry, that there is no thought of iMiss 
Carroll in your mind, although you never expec* to win her love, 
in connection with your “ work?’’]— and I would not want my 
attention turned from it, even to the extent of considering a call 
from another field. 

In spite of all my imperfections, my people are standing by me 
very nobly; and T do not want to be asked to leave them. 

Your Most Affectionate Son, 

Henry Elwoou. 

And this was the mother’s reply, received not many 
days afterward : 


Arcadia, August — , 187-. 

My Dear Henry: 

I must confess that I feel some pride at even the suggestion of 
your receiving a call from the Excelsior church; but I will not 
assume to give you any counsel in reference to it, unless the call 
should actually come to you — in that case, you would certainly 
feel bound to give the matter the most serious and prayerful 
consideration. 

When I read that portion of your letter relating to the Confes- 
sion of Faith to Mr. Edwards, he looked very serious at first, and 
presently asked me to read it a second time. He then remarked 
very thoughtfully : “Henry has gone farther in his departure from 
strict Calvinism than I ever expected him to go, and I should 
certainly be pained to see him take the same liberty in construing 
the other portions of the Confession ; but I have an abiding confi- 
dence in his faithfulness and steadfastness, and I do not think it 
will ever be possible for him to be led into serious error, or that he 
will ever relinquish his belief in any of the essential doctrines of 
Christianity.” 

Feeling some curiosity to have his opinion in reference to the 
probability of your receiving the call fi’om Excelsior, I also read 
what you had written on that subject, and, without saying any- 
thing myself, awaited his respon.se. After only a moment’s 
reflection, and with some animation, he said he believed you 
would be just such a pastor as that chuiTh was seeking, 
and he would not be at all surprised, if they should give you 


116 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


a call. He did not, however, express his opinion as to what your 
■duty would be in the case, and I did not think best to ask it. 

But I must not forget to say what I wished to say in reference 
to Miss Carroll. You are more interested in her, Henry, than you 
wish to confess ; and from what you write, I must infer that she 
has considerable admiration for your talents and appreciates your 
preaching very highly. All this is not inconsistent wdth her being 
engaged to Mr. Allison ; but I doubt very much whether such is 
the case, and it may be that he has no more hold of her affection 
and no more right to seek her hand than you have. Your sense of 
honor in reference to your friend does you great credit, but you 
maybe entirely mistaken about the facts in the case 1 You can 
surely find out — in due time — whether she is engaged to Mr. Allison 
■or not, without doing anything to forfeit either his respect or hers. 
You can, at least, maintain a friendlj'^ acquaintance with her, and, 
at the same time, sustain your own dignity and self-respect. Your 
situation is rather peculiar, but your wit and sense ought to guide 
you to a right solution of the problem before you. 

Nothing would tend more to the success and usefulness of 
your ministry than a happy marriage ; and from all that you have 
told me concerning Miss Carroll, I believe she would be a helpmeet 
of inestimable value — and, although I may be only revealing a 
mother’s partiality, I almost think she would rather be courted by 
you than by your friend Allison, and that she would yield her 
affection to you more readily than to him. 

You will not be offended at my telling you, that you have yet 
something to learn about love and courtship as well as about the- 
ology and the duties of the ministerial office ; and perhaps the best 
advice I could give you wmuld be to quote the old and familiar 
maxim, “Live and Learn!” 

From Your Affectionate Mother, 

Emm.\ El wood. 


Elwood had just finished reading his mother’s letter, 
when he was surprised by a visit from a humble mechanic 
living in the outskirts of the village, who, in very pitiful 
tones, requested his ministerial offices at the bedside of his 
daughter, who was dying of consumption. 

“It’s a very bad life she has lived, but she’s sorry 
enough for it now, and she doesn’t want to die before she’s 
prepared for the other world. No one has come to see her 


“LIVE AND LEAKN!” 


117 


in her sickness, except Miss Carroll and Miss Martin, 
because she was once their schoolmate” — the poor man’s 
sobs prevented his saying anything farther. 

Maud Ingalls was the girl’s name, and her story was 
familiar to every one living in the village. It was the ever 
old, and alas, the ever neiv story — for the tragedies of 
human passion are as unceasing as the tides of the sea, and 
spare neither city nor village nor country. It was the 
story of one who had loved too early and loo well, and 
who had been betrayed, deserted and disgraced. Her 
parents sought relief from their sore mortification in vent- 
ing reproaches upon her, that she knew not how to 
endure ; her acquaintances slighted her wherever she went ; 
she was poor, and very fond of dress, and was thereby 
attracted to the whirlpool of vice in the great city of Chi- 
cago ; where, steeped in shame and degradation, she had 
swiftly run her course, from the gilded palace — down, down, 
DOWN — to the lowest brothel ; and at last, when her health 
was completely broken, and all her charms had faded, she 
had written to her parents, who permitted her, none too 
willingly, to come home to die ! 

So grievously sinned against, so grievous a sinner — 
only Infinite Wisdom can judge such a one ! 

Elwood went with the afflicted father at once, and 
found Alice and Clara sitting near the bedside of the sick 
girl, while her mother and younger brothers and sisters 
were standing about the room in a state of mingled grief 
and mortification. 

Whatever may have been Elwood’s idea about pro- 
bing the consciousness of the sick or shriving the souls of 
the dying, he was ever ready to give his personal sympathy 
and the utmost possible consolations of his office to all 
who desired his services — but does he know just how to 
deal with such a case as this ? 

He turned toward Alice and Clara, and obtaining from 


118 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


each of them a look of genuine sympathy, he breathed a 
prayer for grace and wisdom, and then approached the 
bedside of the feeble and wasted girl, the luster of whose 
eyes alone remained to tell what she had once been ! In 
clear and kindly voice, he asked her if she wished him 
to offer a prayer in her behalf. She nodded her assent ; 
and, after Alice and Clara had complied with his request 
to sing “Rock of Ages,” he kneeled down, and fer- 
vently commended the afflicted one — what more, what 
less, could he do for her? — to the Father of all mercies, 
and invoked the choicest blessings of Heaven upon all the 
members of her family. 

How grateful were his notes of sympathy to the dis- 
tressed father and mother ! 

On his taking his leave, they followed him to the 
door, saying to him, with many tears: “Won’t you be so 
kind, sir, as to attend her funeral? We want to bury her 
decently, although she has brought such disgrace 
upon us.” 

She died that night ; and the next day, in the pres- 
ence of only a few of her former schoolmates, including 
Alice and Clara, Elwood performed the last rites over her 
remains, committing her body to the earth whence it 
came, and her spirit to God who gave it ! 

There be many, many problems of life yet before 
you, Henry Elwood — problems that are not solved for you 
by any creed or catechism, or system of theology, or theo- 
ries of philosophy. 

Yo 71 must “Live and Learn!” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


DESIRE AND DISAPPOINTMENT. 

At the appointed time Herbert Allison returned from 
his eastern trip, and accompanying Alice Carroll to a con- 
cert one evening soon after, on their return to her home he 
was invited to come in, which invitation was gladly 
accepted. 

It was something more than formal politeness on the 
young woman’s part that prompted the request; for no 
one appreciated Allison’s conversational gifts more highly 
than she did ; and she was sincerely desirous of hearing his 
account of the various points and places he had visited 
during his absence — but Allison’s mind was occupied with 
a very different theme ! 

She asked him question after question concerning 
New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and other eastern cities, 
which he answered in a tone so different from the one he 
generally used, that, for the first time in her acquaintance 
with him, she felt weary of his company — but he knew 
it not ! 

Then, as she showed a disposition to let him intro- 
duce whatever topic he might wish, he presently said, in 
a very slow and formal manner: “Miss Carroll, I have 
long desired to express to you my appreciation of the 
assistance I have derived from you in my professional 
duties, and I wish especially to express my gratitude for 
the suggestion you gave me in reference to the study of 
our service before rendering it — this suggestion has been. 


120 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


of great value to me, much greater than I can express. 
Will you fully believe me when I say this?” 

She was slightly annoyed at the intensity of his tone, 
but replied pleasantly and somewhat playfully; “ 1 must 
believe whatever you assert on this point, Mr. Allison ; 
but I really do not wish you to count yourself specially 
indebted to me. I only expressed to you the thought 
that came into my mind in answer to your ques- 
tion.” [“Is it possible,” thought Allison, “that she had 
no interest in me beyond that?”] “But, Mr. Allison, 
you haven’t told me what preachers you heard in the 
eastern cities ! Did you hear Mr. Beecher, and Phillips 
Brooks, and all the other famous pulpit orators?” 

“Not all of them, by any means, as I was in New 
York only two Sundays and in Boston only one,” he 
replied, rather indifferently, as he was determined not to 
be diverted from the purpose he had in mind ; “but ” — his 
tone suddenly becoming a little warmer — “much as I saw 
and heard while I was absent, my thoughts were turned 
toward Beulah most of the time.” 

“It’s a very beautiful place, isn’t it? ” she responded, 
with a light, silvery laugh, that greatly increased Allison’s 
determination to press his suit to a decisive point, “and 
such good people ! and so many pleasant associations ! No 
wonder you have become so strongly attached to your 
parish ! ’ ’ 

“Yes,” he replied, his voice beginning to show some 
trepidation, “I have become very much attached to my 
parish and my parishioners, especially” — he paused and 
looked into her face, but meeting no response, he could not 
not quite speak the word ‘ ^ you, ’ ’ which trembled on his 
lips, still he must needs go on — “ nearly all the time of my 
absence I thought about my parish work, and how much 

you might assist me, if ” and again he paused and 

looked at her very closely. 


DESIRE AND DISAPPOINTMENT. 


121 


But the flush on her face was a very slight one ; and 
Allison could see no sign or token that she was awaiting 
a farther revelation of his feelings. 

On the contrary, she responded in the same light and 
merely friendly tone that she had used before: “ I would 
certainly be willing to assist you in any way that I can, 
Mr. Allison.” 

‘ ‘ Why does she say ‘ Mr. Allison ’ so formally, and 
with so peculiar an inflection?” he thought, but dared not 
utter the words. 

Then she sought to divert him by farther inquiries 
about the experiences of his vacation, and likewise by rela- 
ting various incidents that had transpired in the village 
during his absence; but Allison’s mind was absorbed in 
a single theme, and, notwithstanding the very unsatisfac- 
tory response he had met thus far, he must pursue this 
theme to the end — the time has come for her ears to hear 
the tale of his love in clear and unmistakable terms ! 

“Surely,” he flattered himself, “when she answers 
me, she will not say ‘No.’ ” 

Rallying all his forces for a final effort, he essayed 
to address her in such a manner that she could not refuse 
to give him a direct answer: “Miss Carroll, I must 
express to you how high a regard I have always felt ” — in 
vain he searched her eyes for some tender response — “for 
you, and how ” 

She saw that he would not be diverted, and therefore 
quickly interrupted him: “Mr. Allison” — looking him 
directly in the face — “I certainly appreciate this expres- 
sion of your good opinion, as I believe it is wholly sin- 
cere, but I must request you to go no farther. I have too 
much respect and friendship for you to desire an avowal of 
any feelings that I can not reciprocate.” 

Her tone was very kind, very gracious, very cordial, 
but it was also very clear ; and Allison was clear-minded 


122 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


enough to understand that farther persistence on his part, 
either now or hereafter, would be in vain. 

He also realized that the high respect, which he knew 
she felt for him, now depended on his complete acceptance 
of the situation, 

A few minutes’ very pleasant, but somewhat restrained 
(especially on Allison’s part) conversation closed their 
interview ; and Allison took his departure with a heart 
very heavy from disappointment, but yet free from sore 
mortification and bitterness. 

Severe as was his wound, Miss Carroll’s delicate con- 
sideration of his self-respect was an alleviation for which 
he felt very grateful ; and although his love for her was 
genuine and fervent, he did not feel that his life depended 
on her reciprocation of his feelings — was he not still a man ! 

And Herbert Allison was capable of friendship for 
man as well as love for woman ! 

During their walk home from the concert, Alice had 
casually stated to him that she had attended the Presbyte- 
rian church during his absence, and, in a very unconscious 
manner, had expressed her high appreciation of Elwood’s 
preaching, Allison paid no special attention to this at the 
time, and it passed out of his mind entirely, until he 
returned to his room and retired to rest — then it came 
back to him with peculiar vividness. There was nothing 
in her tone to indicate that she had any feelings toward 
Elwood that had caused her rejection of his advances ; but 
there was something in it that caused Allison to associate 
their names and characters very closely in his conscious- 
ness ; and he revolved the fitness of a union between them 
in his mind until he dropped to sleep — which was only an 
hour or two before morning ; and soon after he awoke 
he resolved to present the matter to Elwood’s consid- 
eration at the first favorable opportunity. 


CHAPTER XX. 


COUNSEL AND CONSIDERATION. 

Elvvood’s mind was stirred by way of remembrance to 
a considerable extent by his mother’s letter. It brought 
to his memory his first introduction to Alice Carroll, their 
meeting at Beecher’s church, her close attention to his 
commencement oration, her attendance at his prayer- 
meetings, and her manifest interest in his preaching. 

While the letter did not fully satisfy him that he 
would be justified in testing her feelings toward him, it set 
him to thinking and debating the question. He cherished 
no such cheap vanity as the belief that he could win her 
away from Allison ; but he could not escape the feeling 
that there was something which would compromise his 
honor and self respect, if he should make any advances 
toward her while Allison was even seeking her heart and 
hand ; and he therefore shrank from the least appearance 
of any interference with Allison’s suit, without stopping 
to consider whether he would be successful or not. 

“ How glad I am,” he inwardly thought, “that Alli- 
son will soon return,” so that she will no more excite my 
interest by her attendance at my church — but still she will 
continue to attend my prayer-meetings.” And then he 
reproached himself for wishing to be relieved of the pres- 
sure upon his feelings by the absence of so interesting and 
appreciative an auditor. 

In two weeks more Elwood received a unanimous call 


124 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


from the Excelsior church, at a salary just twice the amount 
he was getting at Beulah, 

He waited till the next day before informing any of 
his people, and then called at Dr. Goodway’s, and, 
after showing the Doctor and Mrs. Goodway the call, 
frankly stated that he desired their counsel and advice, 

“Of course,” said the Doctor, “you will have to con- 
sider this question in the light of duty ; but wc want you 
to stay in Beulah. There are certainly very many reasons 
for your staying with us, and the people will be very reluc- 
tant to part with you.” 

“You surely can not leave all your friends and 
associations here,” said Mrs. Goodway, with no slight 
degree of feeling. “Why, your usefulness in Beulah has 
only begun, and, as the Doctor says, there are so many 
reasons for your staying here. If the Excelsior church 
only knew how well you are getting along here and how 
much the people are attached to you, they surely wouldn’t 
try to take you away.” 

“Ah, Hannah,” said the Doctor, “that is just what 
they have found out, and for that reason they have called 
Mr. Elwood ; but we sincerely hope he will not accept.” 

At this moment it came to Mrs. Goodway’s mind, 
that Mr. Carroll, although not a member of the Presby- 
terian church, might have an influence in inducing Elwood 
to refuse the call that none of their own members could 
have, and then came also the thought that if P21wood 
should seek Mr. Carroll’s advice, his farther acquain- 
tance with Alice might be greatly facilitated, and she felt 
very certain, at least she hoped, that Alice’s influence, if 
Elwood should once consult her, would be very potent. 
With these considerations in her mind, just before 
Elwood took his departure she suggested to him that Mr. ‘ 
Carroll would undoubtedly give him wise counsel, if he 
were asked for his opinion. It was in her thought to sug- 


COUNSEL Am) CONSIDERATION. 


125 - 


gest the asking of Alice’s opinion also, but she prudently 
refrained from expressing this. 

Elwood made no direct answer to her; but he imme- 
diately resolved not to come to a final conclusion in refer- 
ence to the call from Excelsior, until he had consulted Mr. 
Carroll, and if the way should be clear, Alice also. His 
sense of honor toward Allison was not wounded by this 
determination — he would only seek her opinion in refer- 
ence to the call he had received — and if the inquiry should 
touch her feelings in any way, he might be able to judge 
whether she sustained such a relation to Allison as would 
forever forbid any manifestation of his feeling towards her. 

It is very probable that if it had not been for Mrs. 
Goodway’s suggestion, Elwood would have written to the 
Excelsior church the next day declining the call ; for on 
going among his people and acquaintances, he found their 
protests so emphatic that his mind was pretty well made 
up that it was his duty to remain in Beulah. Very few 
could see any reason for his leaving his present field at all ; 
and not one did he meet who considered the reasons suffi- 
cient to justify his going to Excelsior. 

His mind is substantially made up, and only one word 
of interest in his ministry (this is the utmost he dares to 
expect !) from a single person will determine his refusal of 
the call to Excelsior — will she speak it ? 

In the evening he called at Mr. Carroll’s and found 
him and Alice together in the parlor. How neat and 
charming seemed her dress ; how gracious her air and 
manner; how brightly shone her eyes in the glare of the 
lamplight ! 

He very soon made known the object of his call, and 
requested Mr. Carroll’s opinion as to his duty in the prem- 
ises, and turning to Alice, said, “ I would be glad to have 
yours also. Miss Carroll.” 

“ If I were to consider only my own wishes and those 


126 


HEXRY ELWOOD. 


of the people of Beulah,” was Mr. Carroll’s prompt reply, 

“ I would urge you to remain here, but when it comes to 
a consideration of duty in reference to sucH a call, the 
question becomes more complicated and serious. 

“It is a very large church, isn’t it, father ?” asked 
Alice, with the slightest animation — but Elwood could not 
interpret her tone. 

“I believe it is the oldest church in the city; but I 
do not know how large a membership it has,” he answered, 
turning an inquiring look toward Elwood. 

“I do not know the exact number,” the latter 
responded, “but I think several hundred. They are very 
much divided at present, however, and it would be a hard 
task to unite them.” And then he recited at some length 
all that he knew about the troubles in the church, and the 
consequent resignation of Raymond and his withdrawal 
from the field, concluding with an expression of his fears, 
which was not in the least affected, that he would not be 
able to bring peace and harmony to the church again. 

He was both pleased and surprised at the attention 
Alice paid to his narrative ; and as soon as he concluded, 
she said to him : 

“They would not have given you a unanimous call, 
Mr. Elwood, if they were not tired of their strife and con- 
tention, and did not desire a minister that would be accept- 
able to them all. And what a large field of usefulness it 
will be ! ” 

So clear, so frank, so complimentary — how could he 
help being thrilled, even though she manifested no inter- 
est in the question of his leaving Beulah ? 

And that “large field of usefulness” — how large, how 
bright, it seemed to him as she spoke ! 

“The trend of civilization is toward the cities,” said 
Mr. Carroll; “and if successful preachers are called in 
that direction, we can not blame them for accepting. We 


COUNSEL AND CONSIDERATION. 


127 


should all be sorry to have you leave Beulah, Mr. Elwood ; 
but it may be that there is more need for your services in 
Excelsior than there is here. But do not let me influence 
your decision ; I have only given you my opinion because 
you asked for it.” 

On returning to his room, Elwood wrote a letter to 
the Excelsior church, stating that their call was receiving 
his very serious and prayerful consideration, and that he 
would'give them his final answer in a very few days. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


COUNSEL AND COMFORT. 

Elwood earnestly desired the counsel of his friend 
Allison in reference to the Excelsior call, but for some 
reason, did not succeed in seeing him until three or four 
days after Allison’s interview with Miss Carroll, described 
in a previous chapter — and then they casually met on the 
street. 

As soon as they had shaken hands, Elwood made 
reference to his reception of the call, and was about to 
proffer his request for Allison’s best counsel, when the 
latter interrupted him by saying; “Yes, yes, I have heard 
about that, and have been waiting for an opportunity to 
extend my congratulations ! ” 

“ Many thanks for the same, Allison,” was the quick 
reply; “ but I need advice much more than ‘congratula- 
tions,’ and I feel certain you will give me that, honestly 
and faithfully.” 

“Very well, then, if you must have my ‘advice,’” 
replied Allison, after a short pause, and with a seriousness 
in his tone that Elwood could not interpret, “come around 
this evening — we can talk the matter over, anyhow.” 

When Elwood reached Allison’s room in the evening, 
they sat for a few minutes in perfect silence, each waiting 
for the other to introduce the topic in question, and 
each thinking he had never before seen so much reserve on 
the part of the other ! 

At length Allison said, with peculiar emphasis: 


COUNSEL AND COMFORT. 


129 


“Why, Elwood, you don’t need any advice from me 
in reference to that call from Excelsior.” 

Meeting no reply from Elwood except a look of aston- 
ishment, he very soon continued: “Does a railroad train 
need ‘ advice ’ to move along the track, when the steam is 
on ? Do plants and flowers need ‘ advice ’ to grow, when 
the rain has fallen, and the sun is shining on them ? Does 
an oak tree need ‘ advice ’ to spread out its branches and 
lift up its limbs toward the sky?” 

Elwood was taken quite aback by this, and could only 
say: “But, Allison, I am not a railroad train, nor a plant, 
nor a tree, only ” 

“Only a Christian minister,” interrupted Allison, 
with a smile: “at any rate, I will consider you such, even 
if you do not come in the line of ‘ Apostolic succession ; ’ 
but you are subject to the laws and forces of your being, 
as certainly as are the the railroad train and the oak tree 
and the growing plant. Wherefore, laying aside all fig- 
ures of speech, you can not refuse this call, with all the 
inducements it offers you.” 

“I hope you don’t mean to say that I will go to 
Excelsior, because I am offered a larger salary there than 
lam getting here?” answered Elwood, a little impatiently. 

“Allison paid no attention to this, but continued 
very calmly: “The -inducements’ I refer to are the 
opportunities for growth and usefulness on your part; and 
because you are honest and disinterested, you must needs 
be true to yourself and respond to this call — you can 
hardly do otherwise without stultification.” 

“I feel,” responded Elwood, “that here is a case, 
perhaps above all others, in which I need divine direction 
and in which I must not lean on my own understanding — 
my reason and judgment seem wholly inadequate to a 
proper decision of the question.” 

“But the more you apply your ‘reason’ and ‘judg- 


130 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


ment’ and ‘understanding’ to the case,” said Allison, 
“the more clearly will you see that the ‘divine direction ’ 
is to Excelsior. Much as I shall regret to see you leave 
Beulah, I would not dare to put myself in the way, in 
even the slightest measure, of these plain ‘ indications of 
Providence.’ As well might the sun refuse to rise to-mor- 
row as for you to refuse the larger duties and responsibili- 
ties that this call opens to you.” 

They were both silent for a few minutes, and then 
Allison continued: “Do you really want some friendly 
advice from me, Elwood?” 

“It is for that I have come to see you,” was the 
prompt reply. 

“I have something to say to you, if you will hear 
it?” continued Allison, speaking very slowly. 

“You know the nature of our friendship; go on.” 

Allison waited a few minutes, and then looking 
directly into I^lwood’s face, said to him : “ Before you fully 
enter upon your work at Excelsior, you ought to marry! ” 

A sudden peal of thunder could not have given 
Elwood greater surprise than this utterance of his friend ; 
and Allison’s tone was too serious to accuse him of ban- 
tering or trifling — but wherefore such ‘ advice ’ as this? 

“I might retort, Allison, with the proverb, ‘Physi- 
cian, heal thyself’” — Elwood did not catch the peculiar 
expression of Allison’s face at this point — “ but since you 
seem in such earnest on the subject, I will plead my 
‘youth and inexperience.’ At any rate, there will be 
time enough for me to think of matrimony in the years to 
come, whether I go to Excelsior or remain here.” 

But Allison continued in the same slow and serious 
tone: “Elwood, do you know how great a task is before 
you at Excelsior? I believe you will be equal to it; but 
you will need more counsel and help than you have ever 
needed here. To unite the membership of that church. 


COUNSEL AND COMFORT. 


131 


and preach to them faithfully and acceptably ; to teach the 
rich that they should respect the poor, and the poor that 
they should not envy the rich — verily you will have a task 
that will tax your powers of intellect and soul to the ut 

“That is, if I go there?” interrupted Elwood, with a 
smile. 

‘ ‘ I feel very safe in my assumption that you will go 
to this larger field, that is, if I know the man I am talking 
to ; and you will find ‘ issues ’ and difficulties there, of 
which you have never dreamed in Beulah.” And then, in 
a warmer tone, but still calm and self-possessed, Allison 
continued: “But, Elwood, you must do more than 
these people — you must surprise them ; you must prove 
yourself a much greater man and greater preacher than 
they have taken you to be ; 5'’ou must manifest such 
ability and such excellence of character before them, that 
they will forget all their discords and differences in love for 
you and appreciation of your ministry.” 

“Don’t set so high a mark before me, I beg you, 
Allison,” interposed Elwood; “I am not Beecher, or 
Spurgeon, or Wesley, or Whitfield.” 

“Neither would I have you strive to be one of 
these,” said Allison; “ rather be yourself — I mean your 
highest and best self But, on this point, let me read you 
an extract from the ‘ sage of Concord ’ ” — and taking down 
a volume of Emerson from its place on the shelf, he read 
from the address before the Cambridge divinity students 
in 1838: 

“ ‘ Yourself a new-born bard of the Holy Ghost, cast 
‘behind you all conformity, and acquaint men at first hand 
‘with Deity. Look to it first and only, that fashion, 

‘ custom, authority, pleasure and money are nothing to 
‘ you — are not bandages before your eyes that you can not 
‘ see — but live with the privilege of the immeasurable 
‘ mind. Not too anxious to visit periodically all families 


132 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


‘and each family in your parish connection, when you 
‘ meet any of these men or women, be to them a divine 
‘ man ! be to them thought and virtue ; let their timid 
‘ aspirations find in you a friend ; let their trampled 
‘ instincts be genially tempted out in your atmosphere ; let 
‘ their doubts know that you have doubted, and their won- 
‘ der feel that you have wondered. ^ ^ ^ Discharge 

‘ to men the priestly office, and, present or absent, you 
‘ will be followed by their love, as by an angel ! ”’ 

“That is worth taking into my memory,” said 
El wood, with some animation, “even if Emerson is not 
considered a representative of orthodoxy.” 

“ And your use of the term ‘orthodoxy’ brings me 
to what, by your leave, I will call the second point of my 
discourse,” resumed Allison — ^“but haven’t I already 
given you more ‘advice’ than you bargained for? ” 

“No, no,” said Elwood, with some eagerness, “I 
want to hear you through.” 

“ As soon as you spoke the word ‘ orthodoxy,’ I was 
reminded that you had already begun to wrestle with the 
Confession of Faith, and I believe you have disposed 
of one chapter, as far, perhaps, as it is possible to 
dispose of it ; but whether you will believe me or not, you 
will have more serious doubts concerning the doctrines 
of your church than any you have yet encountered or 
even imagined.” 

“‘Doubts?’” responded Elwood, very earnestly; 
“if I should ever doubt the fundamental truths of Chris- 
tianity, I would quit preaching immediately ! ” 

“That all sounds very well,” calmly replied Allison; 
“but your doubts may not take that particular shape, or 
any other shape that you might now expect. I know not 
whether your difficulty will be with ‘eternal punishment,’ 
or ‘ total depravity, ’ or ‘ miracles, or ‘ inspiration, ’ or 
some other hard problem; but you can not escape the 


COUNSEL AND COMFORT. 


m 

theological investigation and speculation of the day — it is 
in the air ! ” 

“What would you have me do with my doubts, if 
they must come? How shall I get rid of them?” asked 
Elwood, a little nervously. 

“You can not get rid of them,” was the quick 
response; “ you must master them — you must find some 
way to solve the various questions they present to you. It 
will be no easy matter for you to do this, at the same 
time preserving a good conscience and exercising all the 
functions of a Presbyterian minister; and it is because I 
foresee these theological difficulties in your way, as well as 
many practical ones, that I have taken the liberty to urge 
the subject of matrimony upon your attention — believe me 
you will need help ! ” 

“The value of the ‘help’ would depend very much 
on the person I might marry, would it not ? — if we are to 
enter upon a serious discussion of the matter,” responded 
Elwood, in a rather light tone. 

“ Very true,” said Allison, without any relaxation of 
his seriousness; “you should not marry a woman who will 
increase your difficulties by opposition or indifference, nor 
yet one who will approve all your acts, whether they be 
wise or otherwise ; but you should seek a woman who will 
be intensely interested in every thing pertaining to your 
professional work, and will love your ministry more than 
she loves her own life — one whose judgment will be an 
unfailing reliance, and whose insight and intuition will be 
a well-nigh infallible guide — one whose sense of right and 
truth will enable you to triumph over all doubts and mis- 
givings and fears — in short, a woman who will be thought 
of your thought, heart of your heart, and life of your 
life!” 

“A very high ideal you furnish me, ” said Elwood, 
with a perceptible tremor in his voice — how could he help 


134 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


thinking of Miss Carroll all the while Allison was 
speaking ! 

“Yes,” said Allison — and now his voice began to 
tremble, but he faltered not — “and I can point you to the 
woman who can even more than fill it; and you can vdn 
her, if any one can — I mean Alice Carroll ! ” 

Elwood could only open his eyes upon his friend 
in utter astonishment ; but Allison maintained his perfect 
equanimity, and after waiting a few minutes for Elwood to 
recover from his “shock,” proceeded: “I mean it all, 
and speak it out of the abundance of my friendship for 
you — can you believe this ? ” 

“ But, Allison, I have always supposed that you ” 

“Was desperately in love with her myself, no doubt 
you were going to say, ” interrupted Allison; “but how- 
ever correct you might have been, I know that she has no 
interest in me beyond sincere friendship ; and both for her 
sake and for yours, I would rejoice to see you win her 
love — that I may pronounce you husband and wife before 
you leave Beulah, or as soon thereafter as practicable.” 

Whatever feeling of pleasure Elwood may have 
allowed himself on account of this revelation, he did not 
fail to notice the signs of an intense mental strain in his 
friend’s face, and, notwithstanding the extreme delicacy of 
the situation, he could not refrain from expressing his sym- 
pathy for Allison’s pain and his appreciation of his noble 
and disinterested friendship. 

And with a cordial shaking of hands they separated, 
Allison greatly relieved, and Elwood — having maintained 
his loyalty to his friend without spot or tarnish — now 
thrilling with hope and expectation. 

He could at least launch his ship upon the sea ! 


CHAPTER XXII. 


PLOTTING AND PLANNING, 

“ Alice,” said Clara Martin, as the two young women 
were seated in the house of the former one Tuesday after-’ 
noon a week or two after the events recorded in the two 
previous chapters, “ my father has been in Beulah three 
years as pastor, and four years as presiding elder, and in a 
few weeks more his term will expire and then we will have 
to leave the place. It makes me feel very sad. I have 
had so many happy days at Beulah, and so many — it 
would be ungrateful in me to say so many unhappy — ones ; 
but you know how much I have suffered.” 

“I don’t suppose I can fully realize it, Clara. The 
Bible says, ‘ Each heart knoweth its own bitterness;’ and I 
presume none of us can express all that we suffer even to 
our dearest friends.” 

Have you ever heard anything about Mr, Vernon ?” 
asked Clara, with the very slightest tenderness in her tone. 

“ Nothing except that father told me the other day, 
that he is a practicing physician in Excelsior and is unmar- 
ried.” 

“I have heard that myself,” Clara replied; “and 
wondered whether it was selfish or wicked in me to feel 
glad that he had married no one else,” 

“It was at least nattcral for you to feel so, Clara,’' 
answered Alice, with a smile. 

“And still I ought not to feel unwilling that he 
should enjoy the happiness of married life, especially since 


130 


HEXllY ELWOOI). 


it has been so long since our engagement was broken — and 
I have never even seen him since he left College.” Then, 
after a pause of several minutes, Clara continued: “ Alice, 
I have often thought, from the way you spoke at the time, 
that if you had been in my place, }'Ou wouldn’t have broken 
the engagement — at least not as quickly as I did.” 

“ No girl can tell just what she would do in such a 
case,” Alice answered, with some color in her face, “but 
I am sure you did just what you thought was right, and 
feeling as you did, 1 don’t see how you could have done 
otherwise. 

“ I suppose it was the Lord’s will and all for the 
best,” said Clara, with an effort to assume a more cheerful 
tone. ‘ ‘ I always felt that if I married at all, it must be 
to a minister, so I could share in his labors as far as possi- 
ble. If Mr. Vernon had only — ” and in spite of her 
efforts to restrain them, a few tears forced themselves into 
her eyes. 

“I certainly sympathize with you, Clara; there 
couldn’t be a worthier ambition for any woman than to be 
married to a faithful and devoted preacher.” 

“ That is just what I thought, ” replied Clara, “but 
the Lord seems to have directed otherwise ; and the ques- 
tion I am now asking myself is what other work he would 
have me do.” 

“Why, Clara, haven’t you been doing all that you 
can do? You are assistant superintendent of your Sun- 
day School and president of the Woman’s Temperance 
Society ; and you take an active part in your class-meet- 
ings and the other services of your church, besides doing 
so much for the poor and distressed of our village.” 

“Alice,” said Clara, in a voice full of deepest feel- 
ing,” poor Maud Ingalls’ death has made me feel sadder 
than anything that ever happened in my experience — yes, 
it has made me feel sadder than all my own trouble. You 


IM.OTTING AND PLAX.\IX(;. 


137 


remember how merry and lively she was when we went to 
school together, and how she used to make us all laugh 
with her pranks and mischief. And she was just as pure 
and innocent then as we were ! She was one of the last 
girls I would have expected to go astray.” 

“ I have read of such cases in the papers,” responded 
Alice; “but this is the first one that ever came so near 
home. I am very glad we went to see her, Clara, and did 
what we could to comfort her and her parents. How 
badly they felt, and how grateful they were to us. A few 
women among my acquaintances have expressed their sur- 
prise that we should do anything for such a degraded crea- 
ture ; but I believe we did right, and 1 do not regret it.” 

“ Didn’t you think, Alice, that Mr. Elwood’s prayer 
and remarks at the funeral were very appropriate?” 

“Yes, Clara, very appropriate,” Alice replied, with a 
little more emphasis in her mind than she cared to mani- 
fest in her voice. 

“ Since Maud came home,” said Clara, “ I have been 
reading in the papers something about the great tempta- 
tions that young girls, especially poor girls, have to 
encounter in all large cities, and how many wicked devices 
there are to deceive them and rob them of their innocence 
and virtue. O, it’s terrible, it’s terrible, and scarcely any 
effort is made to save them ! There are temperance socie- 
ties and a great many other organizations to save the boys 
and young men ; but almost the only thing that is done 
for the great army of unprotected girls is to neglect them 
in their struggles for a livelihood and despise and hate 
them after they have fallen. Everybody — and I fear our . 
own sex are much harder in their judgment than men are 
— wants to stone them to death, no matter how much 
wrong and injustice they may have suffered. How I wish 
I could do something for them ! ” 

“Clara,” said Alice, “if it should be your duty to 


138 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


do any work of this kind, the Lord will surely open the 
way — we can only wait for the manifestation of his will in 
all that concerns the work of our lives.” 

At this point the door bell rang, and on Alice’s open- 
ing the door, in response to her invitation, entered Mrs. 
Goodway. 

She just came, she said, to borrow one of George 
Eliot’s novels, which Alice had promised to loan her; but 
she did not decline the request to be seated awhile. 

“We were talking about Maud Ingalls just before 
you came in,” said Clara; “ how sad her case was — you 
remember she was once a schoolmate of ours? ” 

“I had forgotten that,” Mrs. Goodway responded; 

' ‘ but I was glad you both went to see her before she died, 
whether she deserved your kindness or not.” 

“However bad she may have been,” said Alice, 

‘ ‘ she was utterly wretched and heart-broken when we saw 
her, and she told us that we spoke the first kind words to 
her that she had heard for a long, long time !” 

“And I was also glad,” said Mrs. Goodway, “that 
Mr. Elwood attended her funeral. I have heard that his 
remarks were very beautiful and appropriate in every 
respect.” 

“So they were,” said Clara, “Mr. Elwood always 
speaks very appropriately, and,” turning her eyes toward 
Alice, “ very eloquently. ” 

Which remarks concerning Elwood Alice took no 
pains to dispute ! 

After a pause of two or three minutes, Mrs. Goodway 
continued: “Alice, has Mr. Elwood asked your father’s 
advice about leaving Beulah — you have heard that he has 
received a call to Excelsior? ” 

She watched the girl’s face very closely for some man- 
ifestation of feeling about Elwood’s leaving the village, 
but could catch none. Alice simply said : “ He was here 


PLOTTING AND PLANNING. 


139 


a few evenings since and talked to father about it awhile.” 

“Your father urged him to stay in Beulah, didn’t 
he?” was the next inquiry. 

“ He said he would be very sorry to have him leave 
Beulah — but, of course, he wouldn’t want to offer any 
opinion conflicting with Mr. Elwood’s plans or his ideas 
of duty.” 

“We are all very anxious to have him decline the call 
to Excelsior and continue his ministry with us;” said Mrs. 
Goodway with some earnestness ; “and I sincerely hope 
your father will try to influence him to that decision.” 

“ I do not wonder that you are anxious to have Mr. 
Elwood remain with you,” said Clara, “his ministry has 
been so acceptable.” 

“ It certainly has,” said Alice in her usual clear tone ; 
“ and it is very natural that his people should be reluctant 
to see him leave for even such a field as he would have at 
Excelsior.” 

Which remark, as interpreted by Mrs. Goodway, 
raised her hope very high, that Alice’s influence might be 
sufficient to prevent Elwood’s leaving Beulah — if they were 
only better acquainted with each other ! 

Something must be done to this end at once; and, 
after making some allusion to their Wednesday night 
prayer meetings and asking Clara a few questions about 
the meetings of the Methodist church — she was justified in 
throwing Alice oft' her guard in this way, wasn’t she ? — she 
said, in a very casual manner : ‘ ‘ Alice, if you will stop on 
your way home to-morrow night, I will let you have ‘ Ben 
Hur. ’ I have only a few more pages to read, and will finish 
the book to-morrow.” 

“ Thanks, ” said the unsuspecting Alice, “I will do 
so, as I am anxious to read the book ; ” and then Mrs. 
Goodway took her departure, leaving Alice and Clara to 
finish their conference. 


140 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


In the course of the evening the good woman said to 
her husband: “Josiah, I have a very urgent request to 
make of you ; and you must not refuse me. I want you 
to ask Mr. Klwood in after prayer-meeting to-morrow 
night.” 

“What, Hannah!” he answered, in no small degree 
of surprise. 

“I am only asking you to do what you have fre- 
quently done before,” she answered. “You asked him 
in last Wednesday night and talked to him an hour or 
two after he came — and I only want you to talk with him 
a few minutes to-morrow night I All I want is to have 
him meet Alice Carroll here ; and he can not avoid 
offering to accompany her home. I have requested her to 
stop, and she hasn’t the least idea of my object.” 

To do Mrs. Goodway justice, she would not have 
devised this “scheme,” innocent as it was, merely to fur- 
ther an acquaintance between Elwood and Alice. She 
was intensely in earnest in her desire to prevent Elwood’s 
leaving Beulah ; and she felt very hopeful that if Alice’s 
influence to that end could be secured, it would be very 
effective with him. 

“But Elwood will surely suspect — ’’protested the 
Doctor. 

“ Why should he? ” she responded, “ when it is only 
what you have done nearly every Wednesday night 
for several weeks past — only you must be sure to do 
it to-morrow night. We must do everything we can to 
keep Mr. Elwood in Beulah, josiah.” 

This last argument had its designed effect upon the 
Doctor, and he promised to do as she asked. 

There was a large attendance at the prayer-meeting ; 
and Elwood thought that Alice paid closer attention to his 
remarks than usual — and was not her singing both clearer 


PLOTTING AND PLANNING. 14J 

and sweeter since he had learned that Allison had no claim 
upon her interest and affection ? 

Elwood lingered a few minutes to shake hands with 
the people, and then started homeward side by side with 
Dr. Goodway. 

The Doctor’s house was between two and three 
squares from the church ; and all the time they were walk- 
ing that distance he revolved in his mind the question how 
he could induce Elwood to go in, if the simple invitation 
were not sufficient. One pretense after another was con- 
sidered and rejected ; and Mrs. Goodway’s high hopes 
might have been doomed to disappointment, if Elwood had 
not happened to think of a volume of Macaulay’s Essays 
that he wished to borrow from the Doctor. On his so 
expressing himself, the latter answered, with a readiness 
that Elwood wondered at: “Certainly, certainly, Mr. 
Elwood, I can get it for you without the least trouble — 
walk in ! ” 

By taking more time than was necessary to find “ Ben 
Hur” and introducing various topics of conversation, not 
overlooking the exercises at the prayer-meeting, Mrs. 
Goodway had prevented Alice’s departure; and as soon as 
the Doctor and Elwood entered, the latter was requested 
to be seated until the volume of Macaulay could be pro- 
cured. The Doctor immediately took a light and went to 
the library for the book, and, after searching a few minutes 
in vain, called Mrs. Goodway to his aid, in spite of 
Elwood’s protests that he could call for it some other 
time. 

This was no part of Mrs. Goodway’s plan, and she 
and the Doctor presently returned to the sitting-room, 
expressing their regrets that it could not be found. 

In a few moments Alice arose to depart ; and as Mrs. . 
Goodway had calculated, Elwood offered himself as an 
escort to her home. 


142 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


In response to her gracious invitation when they 
reached her door, he entered the house and spent half an 
hour in her company. 

It was only half an hour ; but it was long enough for 
him to recover from the peculiar embarrassment and self- 
consciousness that he felt as soon as they were first seated 
in the room alone ; long enough for him to express some 
appreciation of the value of her presence at his prayer- 
meetings ; long enough for him to secure her company for 
a lecture of John B. Gough on “Orators and Oratory,” 
which was to be delivered in the village a few days hence. 

They are “getting acquainted” as rapidly as you 
could desire, Mrs. Goodway — but Alice’s vision reaches 
far away from Beulah ! 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


“PROGRESS AND POVERTY.” 

The city of Excelsior was only about one hundred 
miles from Beulah ; and although Elwood had visited the 
place, perhaps half a dozen times in his life, he had no per- 
sonal acquaintance with the membership of the church to 
which he had been called, except that he had met two or 
three of its elders during the sessions of the Synod of 
X since he became a minister. 

His sense of responsibility and his desire to reach a 
proper conclusion were so great, that, without consulting 
any of his friends, he resolved to make a trip to the place, 
and spend two or three days looking over the field, that he 
might understand the situation more clearly. 

Taking the early morning train, he arrived at h^xcel- 
sior a little before noon, and ordered the hack driver to 
convey him to Dr. Vernon’s office, which he learned was 
located in the central part of the city. 

He was met at the door by an attendant, who informed 
him that the Doctor had gone into the country to visit a 
patient, and would not return till the latter part of the 
afternoon. 

Elwood was disappointed at this information, as he 
desired to talk with Vernon awhile before introducing him- 
seif to any of the officials or members of the church ; but, 
after a few moments’ reflection, he resolved to improve the 
time by taking a drive around the city, that he might get 
some idea of its size and growth. 


144 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


But he first stepped into a restaurant near by to pro- 
cure a lunch, as he did not wish to take time for dinner at 
a hotel. 

While partaking of this, he said to the waiter, who 
seemed to be an unusually talkative fellow: “Do you 
know Dr. Vernon, whose office is only a few doors from 
your place ? ” 

“ I should say I do,” was the prompt reply; “he fre- 
quently lunches here, although his regular boarding place 
is in another part of the city.” 

“ Has he a very large practice?” was Elwood’s next 
inquiry. 

“ I should say so,” replied the waiter, very emphatic- 
ally ; “he’s going nearly all the time. It makes no differ- 
ence where people live, nor how poor they are ; and he 
spends all he makes in buying medicine and other things 
for the poor families that he visits. I have often known 
him to buy a basketful of provisions here before going to 
see some poor sick devils down in ‘ Egypt,’ and take them 
along with him in his buggy.” 

“Egypt?” responded Elwood, in a manner that 
caused the waiter to eye him very closely. “Where’s 
that ? ” 

“ O, you’re not acquainted in Excelsior?” asked the 
waiter. “Well, you will find out enough about ‘Egypt,’ 
before you are in the city long, if you are going to stay 
here — eh ? ” 

No response to this; but the waiter knew he had 
Elwood’s ear, and therefore proceeded: “There’s lots of 
people living down there, but the Lord only knows hoiv 
they live. But they say old Simpkinson gets his rents out 
of them all the same ; and if they don’t pay up, he turns 
them into the street without much ceremony. You’re 
not acquainted with Simpkinson, I reckon?” 

“No, I am not, but I have heard of him,” was the 


“PROGRESS AND POVERTY.” 


145 


rather quick reply ; for, notwithstanding the interest that 
Elwood had manifested in reference to “ Egypt,” he was 
exercising the great American privilege of eating in a 
hurry, and he now wanted to bring the conversation to a 
close — so he added, “I have no particular acquaintance 
with any one living in the city, except Dr. Vernon ; what 
is the amount of my bill?” 

But the waiter faithfully improved the time occupied 
in changing the bill by responding: “Well, Simpkinson is 
one of the deacons, or elders, of the First Presbyterian 
church” — at this point the speg,ker noticed a renewed and 
greatly increased interest on Elwood’s part — “and, Lord, 
how he squeezes the rent out of his tenants! ” 

“ I was expecting to take a ride around the city this 
afternoon,” said Elwood, “and perhaps I will strike the 
locality you call ‘ Egypt.’ ” 

“You can easily find it,” replied the waiter, greatly 
pleased that he had secured such a response from his audi- 
tor ; “go south on Grand Avenue (anybody will tell you 
where to find Grand Avenue), as far as Shoddy street; 
then go west till you cross the railroad track, and you can 
see ‘ Egypt ’ for yourself — you won’t want to stay there 
long, however I ” 

And again Elwood’s interest was aroused to such an 
extent as to cause the inquiry whether Deacon Simpkinson 
owned all the buildings in the locality. 

“ Pretty much all of them,” was the quick response; 
“but you won’t find Simpkinson himself down there. His 
office is at 249 Toney street. He knows how to talk slick 
and pious — but if you have any dealings with him, you 
must be devilish careful, or he’ll skin you alive I ” 

The glib waiter would probably have sought to occupy 
his listener’s attention for a much longer time; but another 
customer claimed his attention, and Elwood was released. 


146 HENRY ELWOOD. 

with the reminder that he would have no trouble to find 
“Egypt!” 

Is there not an “ Egypt,” more or less conspicuous, 
more or less dark, in every great city of the world ? 

Procuring a horse and buggy at the nearest livery 
stable, Elwood drove around the State House Square, 
admiring the massive structures and other signs of pro- 
gress and prosperity that everywhere met his eye. He first 
thought that a few hours’ drive would give him at least a 
superficial view of the entire city ; but he soon found so 
much “ extension ” and “improvement” in every direc- 
tion that he despaired of even this ; and after spending an 
hour or two in viewing the central portions of it, he at 
length turned down Grand Avenue, and after surveying 
pretty closely the fine dwellings on either side for a mile 
or more, he turned westward on Shoddy street, and con- 
tinued his course until he crossed the railroad track and 
came in full sight of “ Egypt.” 

He saw no such large, many-storied tenements as had 
become quite familiar to his eyes in New York and Brook- 
lyn, nor such swarms of ragged and haggard creatures on 
the streets; but he still saw enough, without alighting 
from his buggy or questioning a single soul, to realize that 
on these streets and within these buildings there was great 
poverty, great suffering, and great degradation. Some- 
thing caused him to check the speed of his horse and drive 
very slowly around this “ Egypt, ” giving close attention 
to every building and every man or woman or child on the 
streets ; and the contrast between this part of the city and 
the parts that he had seen was most vividly and painfully 
impressed upon his consciousness. 

The gulf between the rich and the poor never seemed 
so wide and so deep to him before. 

“Did Christ die for these poor creatures as well as 
for those who live in the fine mansions on Grand Ave- 


“PROGRESS AND POVERTY.” 147 

nue?” he asked himself, as he crossed the railroad track 
on his return. 

He drove back by a less direct route than Grand 
Avenue; but it was one on which he found very many 
signs of the activity and enterprise for which Excelsior was 
so noted ; and after returning the horse and buggy to the 
livery stable, he went again to Vernon’s office. This time 
Vernon was in ; and it would have been very difficult to 
tell which one of the two derived the greater pleasure from 
the meeting. 

“I felt certain you would come, El wood,” was Ver- 
non’s exclamation as soon as their greeting was over. “ I 
told them you would not refuse their call, if it were unan- 
imous ; but you will have hard work to satisfy them.” 

“ I have not accepted the call yet,” answered El wood ; 
“and am only here to look over the ground and see what 
iny duty is.” 

“You will find Excelsior full of life and enterprise,” 
was Vernon’s response. “The very atmosphere is stimu- 
lating, and there are some very good people here, and 
some — ” 

“Not so good, I suppose you were going to say,’’ 
answered El wood. 

“You may leave it at that, if you wish, although I 
might have used still stronger terms,” answered Vernon, 
with a slight bitterness; “but when did you get here?” 

Then Elwood related his experience since calling at 
Vernon’s office, giving a somewhat detailed account of his 
visit to “Egypt” and his observations there. 

“What sent you to that part of the city?” asked 
Vernon. “The people down there have no use fora 
preacher, but they often call for a doctor. But, Elwood, 
you haven’t dined yet. You must stay with me over 
night, and to-morrow I will introduce you to some of the 


148 


HENRY EL WOO I). 


leading members of the church, so they can see the kind of 
preacher they have called.” 

They were soon on their way to Vernon’s hotel, and 
after dining, they repaired to his rooms on the second 
floor and sat down for an evening’s conversation together, 

“lam glad to see you so prosperous in your profes- 
sion, Vernon,” said Elwood; “you seem to have all the 
practice any one could wish to have.” 

“ I have all the patients I want, I can assure you,” 
was the rather cold reply, “ and more than I can do jus- 
tice to. A great many of my patients need other things 
much more than they need medicine, with which I would 
gladly supply them if I were able ; and many of them die 
for lack of proper nursing and care. As for myself, I 
enjoy life as well as any ‘ lone and lorn ’ fellow of my age 
could expect ; but it pains me greatly' to see so much 
sickness and misery that I can not relieve. I suppose it 
always will be so? What do j'o?( think about that?” 

“ I don’t like to look at it in that way. I still hope 
for that coming of the kingdom of Christ, when the mis- 
eries of extreme poverty and destitution shall cease, and 
there shall be such a distribution of the products of the 
earth that no one shall suffer serious want, unless it be by'" 
his own fault.” But the impressions Elwood had receiyed 
during the afternoon greatly^ qualified the assurance of 
tone that he tried to assume, and then he added : 
“ But I wouldn’t think it possible there should be so much 
destitution in a city' no larger than Excelsior.” 

“New York is not the only place to look for these 
things, Elwood, as you will find before you have been 
here long, ” Vernon responded slowly. “ ‘ Progress and 
I^overty ’ seem to go hand in hand the world over ; and in 
order that some may be rich and prosperous, it seems 
necessary that others should be very poor — -if not very 
wretched. But to change the subject, P'lwood, tell me 


“PROGRESS AND POVERTY.” 


149 


about the people at Beulah. Is the College still flour- 
ishing ? ” 

A full half hour was occupied by Elwood in answer- 
ing Vernon upon these points, Vernon interjecting a num- 
ber of inquiries in reference to persons he had known dur- 
ing his College days ; and at length he asked if Clara 
Martin were still there. 

“ She is ” — but before Elwood could say anything far- 
ther there was a knock at the door, and a boy not yet in 
his teens, on being admitted, inquired for the Doctor. 

It was a call from “ Egypt; ” his father was very sick, 
and his mother was anxious to have something done for 
him right away. 

“ Tell her I will be there very soon, ” Vernon said to 
the little fellow, “and here is a ticket to pay your fare home 
on the street car.” 

“ Elwood went with him in his buggy, and as soon as 
they reached the house, Vernon said, “Will you go in 
with me, or would you prefer to stay in the buggy ? ” 

“I prefer to go in,” said Elwood, with a certain 
degree of positiveness. 

The man was quite sick with an attack of intermittent 
fever ; and the wife and four small children, besides the 
boy heretofore introduced, were in positive lack of suffi- 
cient food, saying nothing concerning the quality of what 
they had. 

Vernon prepared the medicine he thought proper for 
the case, and handed the woman a small sum of money to 
purchase some food for her children. 

“Doctor, you are very kind, ” said Mrs. Watkins, 
“ and I fear we shall never be able' to repay you. I was 
so afraid my husband was going to die, and we haven’t got 
last month’s rent paid, and Mr. Simpkinson — ” 

“I’ll see Mr. Simpkinson to-morrow,” interrupted 
Vernon, “and ask him to wait till your husband is able to 


150 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


work ; but, Mrs. Watkins, I .should have introduced my 
friend, Mr. Elwood, to you. He is the minister they are 
trying to get at the First Presbyterian church in place of 
Mr. Raymond. ” 

Mrs. Watkins bowed to Elwood, and then said, “In- 
deed, Mr. Raymond was a very good man, and he tried 
hard to have all the poor people attend the church, as well 
as the rich ones. He used to come and see us, and we 
both went a few times, (we had better clothes then than 
we have now. Doctor) ; and we were going to join the 
church, but we heard that Mr. Simpkinson and others had 
said they didn’t want poor people in that church, and my 
husband wouldn’t go any more ; and we’ve had such bad 
luck of late, that we can not even send the children to the 
Mission Sunday School ; but if my husband only gets well 
again, I think we will get along.” 

“His case is not at all dangerous, Mrs. Watkins, 
and I think he will be up in a few days,” was the very 
comforting assurance with which Vernon took his leave. 

“Have you many such cases?” asked Elwood, as 
soon as they were again seated in the buggy. 

“Something of the kind nearly every day,” was the 
reply; “I wish I could relieve them all; but it is impossi- 
ble.” 

They drove back to the hotel in comparative silence, 
and soon after they reached Vernon’s rooms, he said ; 
“Elwood, I was asking you about Clara Martin when that 
boy came in. I believe you said she was still in Beulah?” 

“Yes. that is the case, Vernon, but I believe her 
father will be sent to another appointment at the next con- 
ference. ” 

“Then, she is not married?” said Vernon, with a 
slight appearance of relief in his manner. “I wonder if 
she ever thinks of me.” Then more seriously, “It had 
to be so; it had to be so.” 


“PROGRESS AND POVERTY.” 


151 


Elwood made no reply to this except a look of sin- 
cere sympathy, which Vernon appreciated more highly 
than any words that his friend might have uttered. Ver- 
non’s face assumed a lighter aspect as he said: “But 
how are j/ou getting along in respect to matrimony ? Are 
you in love or engaged?” 

“Don’t be curious, Vernon; all I can say to you is 
that I am not engaged.” 

“ Well, well,” answered Vernon, “I can give no pre- 
scription for love-sickness, if you have it, except hard 
work.” 

Elwood smiled at this, and not wishing to reveal his 
feelings towards Alice Carroll at that time, even to Ver- 
non, he turned the conversation into inquiries about the 
growth of the city and the affairs of the First Presbyterian 
church, which continued till nearly midnight, and then the 
two friends retired to rest. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


WEALTH AND WORTH. 

Tlie next morning, as soon as they had eaten break- 
fast, Vernon offered his services in introducing Elwood to 
some of the leading members of the church, stating that 
they would go to Deacon Simpkinson’s first, as he wished 
to talk with him about the Watkins family. 

“ Is he very hard and exacting with his tenants in all 
ca.ses?” asked Elwood. 

“He likes to have them pay their rents, and pay 
promptly ; but you can judge for yourself when you see 
how he answers me,” was Vernon’s reply. “Another 
reason why I want you to see him first is that he was the 
first man that spoke to me about \'Ou ; and you will find 
him very much interested in all the affairs of the church. 
After we see Simpkinson I will take you to Major Collins’ 
store and introduce you to him. ” 

A short drive brought them to Simpkinson’s office ; 
and on entering it they beheld a clean-shaven, bald-headed 
man of about sixty years, very busy with papers and 
accounts ; for Simpkinson was one of those thorough bus- 
iness men who like to keep their own books and handle 
and count their own money. Besides the tenement houses 
in “ Egypt, ” he owned quite a number of business blocks 
in the heart of the city ; and he gave his personal attention 
to the collection of the rents for all these and to the invest- 
ment of the money in additional real estate as fast as it 


came m. 


WEALTH AND WORTH. 


153 

“This is Mr. KhvoocJ, Mr. Simpkinson, whom you have 
called to be your pastor,” said Vernon, as he presented 
Elwood to Simpkinson. 

The latter rose from his desk and shook hands with 
Elwood quite warmly, surveying him the while from head 
to foot ; and although he said nothing on that point, feel- 
ing well satisfied with the looks and appearance of the 
young preacher before him. 

“lam heartily glad to see you, Mr. Elwood,” he 
said as soon as the three men were all seated in Simpkin- 
son’s private office — Vernon and Elwood were accorded a 
privilege not enjoyed by many of Simpkinson’s callers — 
“and I hope you have concluded to accept the call of our 
church. We are anxious to have a faithful servant of 
Christ to watch over us and build up his cause in our 
growing city, and we have sought you for our pastor 
because we all believe you to be that kind of a man.” 

As Elwood made no immediate reply, he very pres- 
ently continued : “ We are now like sheep without a shep- 
herd, very much scattered, very much scattered, and 
therefore we are all praying that you will decide to become 
our minister. We also think ” — he wanted to apply every 
consideration to Elwood’s mind that could have any possi- 
ble influence — “that the salary offered is very liberal, and 
you can easily see how rapidly the city is growing.” 

“ I am giving your call ver)- serious and prayerful con- 
sideration; and I trust I shall come to a right conclusion, ” 
was the only reply Elwood gave him. 

“That is likewise our desire,” said Simpkinson, in 
the same smoth tone as before ; “ and how do you like the 
appearance of our city? ” 

“ Very much, indeed, ” said Elwood — for the moment 
he thought nothing of “Egypt” — “I have been much 
surprised at the activity and enterprise I have seen on 


154 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


every hand. I had no idea I should see so much growth 
and improvement.” 

“ It is wonderful how the city increases in wealth and 
population, ” said Simpkinson, very smilingly ; and then 
looking serious again, “how I wish the cause of Christ 
could be advanced in the same proportion.” 

“You remember I told you you would make no mis- 
take if you called Mr. Elwood,” said Vernon, in a soothing 
tone that quite surprised Elwood ; but Vernon knew the 
man he was talking to, and he wanted to prepare Simp- 
kinson’s mind for the favor he was going to ask. 

“And I am well satisfied we have made none ; in fact, 

I told our people we could not find a preacher with a bet- 
ter reputation than Mr. Elwood,” said Simpkinson, in a 
tone of self-satisfaction that was almost ludicrous, and then 
he again eyed Elwood closely. 

Elwood was considerably embarrassed by this ordeal, 
as well as by Vernon’s and Simpkinson’s utterances con- 
cerning himself, but there was no escape for him ! 

And now it was time for Vernon to speak to Simp- 
kinson concerning the Watkins family. 

“Mr. Simpkinson,” he said, “I promised Mrs. 
Watkins, the wife of one of j’our tenants in the lower part 
of the city, that I would call to see } Ou to-day about their 
rent.” 

“Ah, Watkins, Myron Watkins; they occupy rooms 
25 and 26, No. 499 Claiborne street,” said Simpkinson, 
turning to his cash-book to enter the amount of rent as 
soon as Vernon should hand it to him. 

“ Watkins is quite sick ; but I think he will be up and 
able to work in a few days ; I prescribed for him last 
night,” said Vernon. 

“ Ah, ” said Simpkinson again, and with a shade of 
disappointment in his face, “ they have been very slow, 
and I have indulged them a number of times.” 


WEALTH AND WORTH. 


155 


“ Mrs. Watkins says they will pay you as soon as 
her husband is able to work,” continued Vernon, with 
considerable earnestness, “and I promised to call and ask 
you to wait on them.” 

“ Well, Doctor, ” said Simpkinson, assuming a rather 
meek tone, “It is impossible for me to give m)' personal 
attention to these matters ; but if you have investigated 
this case and are satisfied this family is worthy of my 
indulgence, I will wait on them till Watkins is able to 
work again. Such matters are very annoying, very annoy- 
ing, but ” — turning to Elwood — “we all have our crosses 
to bear in this world, and we must learn to bear them 
without complaint.” 

As Elwood and Vernon rose to depart, he again 
addressed the former : “You will attend our prayer-meet- 
ing to-night ? The people will all be glad to meet you, 
and it will be an excellent opportunity for you to form 
their acquaintance. I would ask you to stay at my house, 
but Mrs. Simpkinson is out of the city, and it would be 
impossible to entertain you properly.” 

“ I will see that he is cared for,” said Vernon. 

“That is one of your members,” said Vernon, as 
soon as they were seated in the buggy again ; ‘ ‘ but they 
are not all like him.” 

“ Are many of them as rich as he is ? ” asked Elwood. 

“There are many of them very well off and living in 
high style ; but if you can get along with Simpkinson, you 
can with any of them. He will nearly always do what I 
request in reference to his tenants ; but I am careful not to 
ask too much of him ; and I generally contrive to speak a 
word of praise, (never very decided, however,) or give him 
an opportunity to praise himself, before I present my 
request. He always wants me to vouch that they are 
‘worthy;’ which never troubles me much, as there are pre- 
cious few of them who are not worthy of any indulgence 


150 


HENKY ELAVOOl). 


he will give them. Still, he will sometimes’ wait several 
months ; and occasionally, if he considers a tenant ‘ very 
worthy, ’ he will throw off a few dollars altogether ; but he 
always expects such a one to be very grateful to him in 
return.” 

[Do not conclude, Henry, because you find Simpkin- 
son possessed of so much wealth and Vernon of so much 
worth, that these two things are always separated ; for per- 
chance the next man you meet is possessed of both wealth 
and worth.] 

The interview with Simpkinson lasted much longer 
than Vernon had contemplated, and just before they 
reached Collins’ store he said to Elwood: “ I can only take 
time to introduce you to Collins, as I have several patients 
to see to-day. He is one of the best men in the city and 
is very popular with all the members of the church. He 
will introduce you to other members, and will probably 
invite you to stay with him over night ; and if Mrs. Collins 
consents to entertain you, as I have no doubt she will, she 
will do it in good form and style; but here comes Collins 
to the door I will introduce you at once.” 

The ceremony of introduction was very soon accom- 
plished, and after explaining the extent of his professional 
duties, V^ernon left Elwood with Major Collins for the 
day. The Major, although full of good nature, was a 
man of thorough business capacity. All his clerks, both 
male and female, attended to their duties with pleasure 
and enthusiasm ; and everything about the management of 
the mammoth store was characterized by facility and order. 
As the two men walked from the door to the office in the 
rear end of the building, Collins spoke a kindly word to 
eaeh one of the clerks and introduced “Mr. Elwood, our 
minister, ” to them, not giving Elwood time to explain 
that he had not accepted such a relation. 

The fact is, that without any such scrutiny as Simp- 


WEALTH AND WORTH. 


157 


kinson had employed, Collins was so highly pleased with 
Elwood, that he at once assumed the acceptance of the 
church’s call by the latter, and took it for granted that he 
had come to Excelsior to make arrangements for entering 
upon his work. 

“ Our church has been badly torn up with strife and 
contention, ” he said, “ and it is high time we were becom- 
ing harmonious again. You will preach for us next Sun- 
day ? ” 

All this was uttered with such force and heartiness 
that Elwood was restrained from explaining that the call 
was still a subject of consideration with him, and only said ; 
“ I can not possibly preach for you next Sunday, but I 
promised Mr. Simpkinson to attend the prayer meeting 
to-night, I have only come over to examine the field 
and — ” 

“ Of course,” said Collins, “you would want to visit 
the city and get acquainted with the people before com- 
mencing your work. Have you met any of the people 
yet?” 

“None but Mr. Simpkinson,” was the answer, “I 
spent an hour or two with him this morning.” 

“ You’ve seen Simpkinson,” said Collins with a smile, 
“then I need not introduce you to him. I must take you 
around to see some of the other members ; but I must 
first do a little writing — if you will excuse me.” 

He went to his desk and wrote a brief note to his wife, 
informing her that “Mr. Elwood, our minister,” was in 
town, and that if agreeable to her he would be happy to 
entertain him over night. 

Looking *it over it to see that it was all in due form, 
he called a cash boy to his side and in an undertone 
directed him to take it to Mrs. Collins and bring back her 
reply as quickly as possible. 

He had a house of over twenty richly furnished rooms 


158 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


and half a dozen well trained “servants;” but he under- 
stood the situation too clearly to offer his hospitality to 
Elwood without first consulting the mistress of the estab- 
lishment and receiving her formal consent. 

During the boy’s absence, which was something less 
less than half an hour, Collins found no difficulty in excus- 
ing himself for the delay in starting out, on account of 
some other business matters ; and when the reply came to 
his note, it was as follows ; 

“ Joshua: 

“We shall be very happy to entertain Mr. Elwood. Dinner 
promptly at six o’clock. Elizabeth.” 

The horse and buggy being ready in front of the store, 
the two men immediately started on their errand. 

“You will stay at my house over night?” inquired 
Collins as soon as they were comfortably seated; “ Mrs. 
Collins, I am certain, will be pleased to have you do so.” 

“I will unless Vernon insists on my staying with 
him,” was the prompt reply, which was very satisfactory 
to Collins, as he felt certain he could dispose of all the 
objections Vernon might offer. 

The task of introducing “Mr. Elwood, our minister,” 
to the members of the church and other citizens was pros- 
ecuted by Collins with his accustomed facility and energy. 
He moved from store to store, from office to office, from 
house to house and from street to street, with a rapidity 
that utterly surprised Elwood ; and yet there was no blus- 
ter, no impatience, no hurry. Rich and poor, churchmen 
and non-churchmen, were alike called on, and they all 
seemed to appreciate the attention they were receiving; 
for Collins’ abounding good nature had its effect upon all 
whom they met, and he had the satisfaction of noticing 
that Elwood made a very favorable impression wherever 
they went. 


WEALTH AND WORTH. 


159 


A number of times Elwood essayed to explain to Col- 
lins that he had not yet decided to accept the call that he 
had received ; but the latter had so much to say about the 
affairs of the church, every topic being presented to Elwood 
as if he were already installed as pastor, that he found it 
impossible to say what he wished, and gradually his ears 
became so accustomed to the phrase that it had no parti- 
cular effect upon him. 

Are we not often prepared for our future in some such 
way as this? 

About the middle of the afternoon they met Vernon, 
and Collins immediately said to him: “Mr. Elwood will 
stay with me over night. Doctor.” 

“You will call at my office before you leave to-mor- 
row, won’t you Elwood ? ” said Vernon, in a tone of earn- 
estness that Elwood could not quite understand. 

The entire day, except the half hour they took for 
lunch, was occupied in these calls without any weariness 
on the part of either, until Collins’ well-disciplined mem- 
ory reminded him that it was nearly six o’clock ; and he 
promptly turned toward his own house, although he told 
Elwood there were several other families that he knew 
“ would be glad to see their minister.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


POWER AND PRECISION. 

They were seated but a few minutes in Collins’ draw- 
ing-room, when with distinct step and rustling train, Mrs. 
Collins made her entrance. 

“This is Mr. El wood, our minister, Mrs. Collins,” 
said Collins, with a reserve that contrasted very strangely, 
to Elwood’s ear, with the tone in which he had been intro- 
duced to other people during the day. 

Mrs. Collins extended her hand to Pdwood, the rustle 
of her skirts making its due impression on his ear, as she 
expressed her pleasure at meeting him. 

Next, the six children, of whom the oldest was Fred, 
a youth of sixteen, and the youngest were twin girls of 
about two years, named Lulu and Lucy, were duly pre- 
sented, and each one received due recognition from 
hdwood. He had not yet learned all that was to be 
learned about the manifestation of sympathy and friend- 
ship for the little folks, but it was a lesson he had not 
wholly neglected during his ministry at Beulah. They all 
knew how to extend their hands and what poise and pos- 
ture of body to assume, when to speak, and when to be 
silent, in the presence of company. No disobedience, no 
rudeness, no impoliteness — at least while the mother’s eye 
was upon them ! PXen the twin babies cooed and cried 
with seeming method and precision. 

But not until they sat down at the dining table was 
Mrs. Collins full power and authority revealed. If there 


POWER AND PRECISION. 


161 


had been a crown on her head and a scepter in her, right 
hand, she could hardly have been more absolute in her 
sway over husband, children and the waiters in attendance. 
The children knew exactly how to handle knife, fork and 
spoon ; and the slightest departure from the most 
approved form or style was promptly corrected by the 
mother’s eye — she had only to look ! 

Collins seemed to be making constant effort to relieve 
himself of the restraint that was on him, by addressing 
some light and playful remark to the children ; but her 
eye would seek him out too, and he felt its force and 
effect. Two or three times he essayed to relieve the 
monotony of her formal and stately (if it could be called 
stately) conversation with Elwood by recounting some 
of the more amusing and ludicrous experiences of the day 
— but she would not suffer it. 

When the second course was finished and they were 
waiting to be farther served, Collins turned to Elwood 
with the remark: 

“You are not married, I have understood ? ” 

“I am not,” Elwood answered, with very slight color 
in his face. 

‘ ‘ You will find plent\' of bright girls in Excelsior — 
the city is noted for the beauty of its women.” 

Not being able to catch her husband’s eye while he 
was indulging in his badinage, Mrs. Collins was compelled 
to hear it through, and then she turned her e> e toward 
him, and in a tone that may be imagined, but not 
described, said : 

“ Josh-Li-a ! ” 

He was more careful after that ! 

As soon as they were again seated in the drawing- 
room, in a tone indicating that the restraints of the table 
might be slightly relaxed, Mrs. Collins addressed her hus- 
band : “Joshua, you introduced Mr. Elwood to me as ‘our 


162 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


minister. ’ I feel very glad that he has accepted the call 
of our church. We certainly need the services of a pious 
and faithful pastor.” 

Collins turned his eyes to Elwood for relief, and the 
latter promptly answered : “I have not accepted the call, 
Mrs. Collins ; and, although I am giving it very serious 
consideration, I have not yet come to a final decision.” 

“But, Joshua, you certainly didn’t introduce him to 
any other people in the same way?” she said to him, with 
a severe look. 

Seeing the perplexity on his face, she continued very 
slowly : 

“Joshua, I am very much surprised that you should 
make such a blunder. If he should not become our pas- 
tor, they will blame us for deceiving them ; and there is 
nothing I dislike so much as deception ! ” 

Collins was nonplused; and Elwood felt annoyed at 
the thought that he had permitted Collins to give so many 
people the impression that he was to become their pastor 
before he had decided to accept their call ; so that neither 
of them could relieve the woman’s mind of the burden 
that was on it. 

At length she came to her own rescue by looking 
steadily at Elwood, and saying in as authoritative tone as 
she dared to assume : “ Let us hope that he will accept 
the call of our church ; and then we shall be free from all 
embarrassment.” 

The conversation lagged quite perceptibly after this ; 
although both Elwood and Collins made several efforts to 
revive it. Mrs. Collins said nothing to check them, but 
her presence was felt. 

At length Elwood pulled out his watch and inquired : 
“What is the hour of your prayer-meeting?” 

“O, yes, I had forgotten,” said Collins; and, then 
turning to Mrs. Collins, “Elizabeth, Mr. Elwood has 


POWER AND PRECISION. 


163 


promised several of the people to attend prayer-meeting 
this evening, and I am going with him. Do you wish to 
attend ? ” 

She paused a full minute, as if in the most serious 
deliberation, and then answered : “I should be glad to do 
so, but I have another engagement. My cook is going to 
leave, and I have promised to see another woman, who 
wants a place, this evening. O, what a trial servants 
are ! ” 

“Then you will excuse Mr. Elwood and me for the 
rest of the evening ? ” 

“ Certainly,” she quickly responded, “as the people 
will expect Mr. Elwood at the prayer-meeting.” 

The two men went to the prayer-meeting ; and, as it 
was generally known that Elwood was in the city and 
would be at this meeting, the lecture-room was crowded. 

At the request of the elders, he led the meeting ; and 
as he stood up before the people to read the Scriptural 
lesson and the opening hymn, he was painfully oppressed 
with the intensity of their interest, but he was equal to 
the occasion. His voice had just enough tremor in it to 
touch the emotions of his audience ; and he soon had com- 
plete command of their attention. His sincere prayer for 
the welfare and prosperity of the church caused their 
hearts to warm toward him in no common measure; and 
when he rose to offer comments and a word of exhortation 
upon the Scriptural lesson, they all realized that here was a 
man whose speech would both charm and edify them. He 
essayed no powerful or brilliant oratory — he only expressed 
his thought in clear and unaffected terms, and with a voice 
of force and melody. 

And every face before him was an empty pitcher 
waiting to be filled ! 

And the only drawback to their satisfaction with his 
remarks was his statement that he had not yet accepted 


164 


IIENKY ELWOOI). 


their call, but was earnestly seeking divine direction in ref- 
erence to it. 

The prayers of a number of the members revealed 
their feelings in the most unmistakable manner. They 
not only besought the Lord to direct his servant to a pro- 
per decision, but also that he might be directed to this 
church, and that his labors in this field might be abun- 
dantly blessed. And the voluntary remarks offered by 
both men and women were in the nature of an appeal to 
him to cast his lot among them and become their pastor. 

At the close of the services these appeals were 
renewed, very man)- remaining to express their anxiety 
for the welfare of the church and their earnest wish that he 
would accept their call. 

Returning to Collins’ house, after spending an hour at 
Vernon’s office on the way, they found that Mrs. Collins, 
the children and the “servants” had all retired, and 
Elwood was not unwilling to be shown to his room, where 
he was soon lost in refreshing slumber. 

“ What a noble fellow he is ! ” said Collins to his wife 
as soon as he reached her chamber. 

“I am very favorably impressed avith him myself,” 
she calmly replied, “ he seems so reserved and dignified ! ” 

Breakfast was announced the next morning at eight 
o’clock ; and the same regularity and precision were ob- 
served as at dinner the previous evening, except that Mrs. 
Collins relaxed a little of her severe air ; and Collins im- 
proved the opportunity to converse somewhat more cor- 
dially with Elwood and his children. He met the stern 
eye of his wife, however, when he attempted to make some 
playful remark to the waiter who brought him his 
second piece of beefsteak. 

Breakfast over, Collins invited Elwood to conduct 
family prayers, and turning to his wife said in a low tone : 

“ Shan’t we call in — ? ” 


POWER AND PRECISION. 


1G5 


A severe look was his only answer ; and the devotions 
of the family proceeded, no note of either Scripture or 
prayer being heard by any “servant ” in the house. 

Preparing to depart, Elwood shook hands very cor- 
dially with the children, and bade them good-by in a man- 
ner that won their complete confidence, and caused them 
to express the wish after he was gone that he would often 
come to see them. 

Mrs. Collins also shook hands with him a little more 
cordially than was her custom, remarking in a tone of 
utmost propriety and force'. “ We shall be pleased to en- 
tertain you at any future time — you will surely accept the 
call of our church ! ” 

Born to command first, last and always ! 

The two men walked down the street together, Col- 
lins introducing Elwood to quite a number of acquaintances 
whom they had not met the day before ; and when they 
reached Collins’ store, and were about to separate, he 
expressed his wish for Elwood’s early return to the city so 
heartily and cordially that the latter could hardly resist the 
inclination to promise an acceptance of the church’s call. 

Elwood proceeded to Vernon’s office, expecting to 
spend some time with him before leaving the city ; but 
Vernon had received a number of very urgent calls early 
in the morning, and did not return from them until a very 
short time before the departure of Elwood’s train, so the 
two friends had scarcely time to shake hands and say 
good-by to each other. 

“ I sincerely hope you will come here, for my bene- 
fit,” said Vernon, “lam very lonesome most of the time.” 

His tone was very earnest, almost pathetic, and it 
went straight to Pllwood’s heart ; but he could only say, in 
reply : “ I will let you know very soon ! ” and then he hur- 
ried to the depot, and in a few hours was again in Beulah. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


WOOING AND WAITING. 

Elwood and Alice attended Gough’s lecture according 
to arrangement; and, as Mrs. Goodway saw them enter 
the hall and take their seats, she whispered to the Doctor : 
“ I always told you they would admire each other, if they 
would become well acquainted ! ” 

She was not near enough to them, however, to notice 
the glances of appreciation that passed between them, as 
the noble orator executed his play upon the feelings and 
sensibilities of his audience. 

If Elwood pressed Alice’s arm a little more closely 
than she desired and quickened his step none too rapidly, 
during their return to her home, let him not be blamed 
severely therefor — he had almost decided to close his labors 
in Beulah and take his departure to another field. 

It was in his mind, when they first reached the street, 
to propose a route homeward a little less direct than the 
one by which they came — but he wisely refrained from 
doing this. 

After mutual comment on various features of the eve- 
ning’s entertainment,, he said to her: “ Which of all the 
arts do you admire most. Miss Carroll?” 

“Oratory, oratory!” she answered, with unconscious 
enthusiasm, “I admire it more than any other art — yes, 
more than all others 1 ” 

This was just before they reached her door, and as 


WOOING AND WAITING. 


107 


soon as she opened it, she invited him in, for which invi- 
tation he felt more gratitude than he cared to express ! 

They spent half an hour in the commonplaces inci- 
dent to the occasion, and in “reviewing” the lecture they 
had heard — their admiration was not expressed in merely 
conventional superlatives, but in terms which showed how 
their souls had been thrilled by the current of Gough’s 
fiery and impassioned eloquence. 

In the midst of this very delightful interchange of 
thought and sentiment, Elwood made some allusion to the 
call from the Excelsior church, when she promptly asked 
him whether he had come to a decision in reference to it. 

“Not yet, that is, not to a final decision ” — his tone was 
of a very inquiring order, which she affected not to notice. 

“I should think,” she said, “it would be very hard 
to leave your people here, notwithstanding the prospect of 
usefulness before you at Excelsior! ” 

What was there in her voice that caused all the scenes 
he had passed through at Excelsior to pass before his con- 
sciousness so vividly ? 

“ Yes, there is a grand field for work at that place,” 
he responded, with considerable flutter in his breast; “but 
the people here protest against my leaving ; and it is very 
hard for me to decide on the proper course. Could you 
give me an opinion as to what I ought to do? ” 

“It is certainly a very grave question for you to 
decide,” she answered, with a kindly smile; “and no one 
but yourself has a right to say that you should refuse such 
an opportunity for activity and service.” 

There was a slight playfulness in her tone ; but she 
manifested such an appreciation of his ministerial gifts, 
that he felt encouraged to go farther: “Really, Miss Car- 
roll, the thought of preaching to these people oppresses 
me. It is such a large church, and there are so many dif- 
ferent classes of people in it — some very rich, and others 


1()8 


HKXKY ELWOOl). 


very poor — some ver\’ intelligent, and others very igno- 
rant — that I can not help shrinking from the responsi- 
bility” 

“ ‘I can do all things through Christ which strength- 
eneth me,’ said St. Paul,” she quickly answered. 

“ But suppose I should be troubled with theological 
doubts? ” 

This was near as Elwood felt justified in coming 
to a revelation of the difficulties he had alread)- passed 
through and his apprehension of greater difficulties in the 
future ; and, to his unfeigned surprise, she had an answer 
even to this: “You can never have an\' serious uncer- 
tainty concerning the preaching your people will need for 
their intellectual aliment and their instruction in righteous- 
ness ; and as for theological doubts, can you not master 
them as others have done before you ? ” 

“ ‘ Instruction ! ’ that is a very appropriate word, Miss 
Carroll ; but the problem for me to solve will be how to 
convey it to them.” 

“The only way I can convey any instruction to my 
Sunday School class,” she responded, with .some anima- 
tion, “ is to become very much interested in them — to give 
them my life, as it were — and I find the same is true with 
all my classes in the College — does not the same principle 
apply to preachers ? ” 

“It certainly does; but I fear we do not realize it as 
clearly as we should.” 

“ I, too, have sometimes thought,” she continued, in 
a very modest tone, but with increased brightness of coun- 
tenance, ‘ ‘ that preachers should make more diligent 
search for the moral faculties of their people, and strive to 
educate — lead forth — their moral natures, according to the 
principle that is so universally recognized by teachers 
and educators” — but, fearing she had said more than was 


\V()OIN(; AND WAITIN(J. 


165 » 


agreeable to him, she suddenly paused and looked at 
him, apologetically. 

[Go on with your criticism, Alice — he will listen, 
“with pleasure and profit,” as long as you shall speak!] 

“But it will be very hard for me to carry out this 
principle at Excelsior among so many different classes of 
people — I shall have so much to learn.” 

“You are not too old to learn yet, are you?” she 
answered, with a merry laugh. “Should not a preacher 
be a constant learner as well as a teacher?” 

“Yes, he should; and I have learned a great deal 
since I have been preaching in Beulah — much more than I 
learned in College or the Theological Seminary.” 

“And it is for that reason, perhaps, that you are 
called to come up higher — that is, where you can learn 
still more ! ” 

“ ‘ Called,’ do you say. Miss Carroll? Do you really 
think the Lord has called me to Excelsior?” 

“The church, at any rate, has called you,” washer 
ready response; “and if there be a divine call, you will 
surely hear it — perhaps you have heard it already.” 

Elwood was highly gratified — what man of his age 
would not have been? — at the manifestation of her confi- 
dence in his ability to occupy the field before him at 
Excelsior ; but he also desired some expression of regret 
on her part in case he should leave Beulah ; so he said to 
her, in a very serious tone: “But it will be so hard for 
me to leave my church and all my friends in Beulah.” 

Whether she suspected the point of this remark or 
not, she merely answered: “Must not the minister of 
Christ be ready to go wherever duty calls him ? ” 

“But, Miss Carroll,” he continued, still more seri- 
ously, “ when I go to Excelsior — I mean if 1 go there — 

I shall hardly know how to preach to the people, espec- 
ially the first few Sundays. I shall not know how to ‘ go 


170 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


out or come in ’ before them, or what message to offer 
them.” 

She gave no immediate answer to this, but presently 
took down a small Bible from the mantel, and opening the 
book of Isaiah, read in a low, clear tone : 

“ How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of 
‘ him that bringeth good tidings ; that publisheth peace ; 

‘ that bringeth good tidings of good ; that publisheth sal- 
‘ vation ; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth ! ” 

Seeing how much he was interested, after a short 
pause she turned to the last chapter of Revelation, and 
continued, in a still richer tone : 

“ I, Jesus, have sent mine angel to testify unto you 
‘ these things in the churches. I am the root and the ofif- 
‘ spring of David, and the bright and morning star. 

“And the Spirit and the bride say. Come. And let 
‘ him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst 
‘ come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of 
‘life freely.” 

O, the r\ thm and cadence of her voice ! — and it was 
all for Ids ear ! 

Surely he may utter the feeling that swells in his 
bosom — and what more favorable time could he have than 
the present one? 

“ Many thanks. Miss Carroll,” he said, as she closed 
the book and laid it on the table, and trying to look her in 
the face, with a trembling in his voice that he could not 
subdue, he continued: “When” — there was no* “if” 
about it now — “ I go to Excelsior — ” 

But she quickly interrupted him by saying, very 
pleasantly: “ You will surely serve the people with all the 
gifts and graces that you possess ! ” 

He was vanquished ! 

Then their conversation turned to less serious topics ; 
and when Klwood took his departure, she said to him with 


WOOING AND WAITING. 


171 


a little archness : “You will call to bid us good-by before 
you leave Beulah?” 

Which he promised with the greatest possible sin- 
cerity. 

Before retiring that night he wrote a long letter to his 
mother, to which he received the following reply the next 
week : 


Arcadia, Sept. — , 187-. 

My Dear Henry: 

Mr. Edwards says he can not regard the call you have 
received from Excelsior in any other light than as providential, 
but, at the same time, he does not feel like unduly urging you to 
accept it, because the responsibility of a decision rests upon your- 
self alone. Concerning my own opinion, I fear that my pride and 
interest in you might prevent the proper exercise of my judgment, 
and therefore I must be careful not to influence you by the consid- 
erations that present themselves to my mind. But I will go so far 
as to say that you should not decline this call merely beause some 
people might think, that if you shoud accept it, you are influenced 
by selfish or worldly motives — provided you know that such is not 
the case ! Of course, you can not rule all material and personal 
considerations out of your mind, and perhaps you ought not to do 
so, but you should see to it very carefully, that your supreme 
motive is the desire to do your whole duty, and not to secure your 
pecuniary or professional advancement — see to it, Henry, that this 
supreme motiv’e is spiritual, and not carnal. 

* * -Jr * «• * * « 

I was not at all surprised to learn that Miss Carroll was not 
engaged to Mr. Allison ; but the question whether you can win her 
depends, as I believe, on yourself. Her sense of your fitness for 
the Excelsior pulpit, expressed so finely and delicately, is certainly 
the highest honor she could pay you as a preacher, and you have 
a right to cherish it very highly ; but this is a very different thing 
from surrendering her heart to you ! 

It was certainly very fortunate that you did not make an 
avowal of your feelings toward her in the interview you speak of.- 
8he undoubtedly thought you were about to do so, and not wish- 
ing to trifle with you (and perhaps not wishing to reject your atten- 
tions altogether) she skillfully interrupted you with a compliment 
that I have no doubt was entirely sincere, and worth more to you 
from her lips than all the praises of your ministry that you have 
ever heard. I also believe that you would be justified in inter- 


172 


HENRY ELWO(JD. 


preting her words as a permission to hope, as well as an injunc- 
tion not to be in too great haste ! 

It is true you have had a partial acquaintance with her for 
several years ; but you should respect her too highly to speak to 
her of love until you know— do not i^ermit yourself to be mistaken 
on this point ! — that she is ready to receive your avowal, and will 
give you the response you desire. There be many signs and tokens 
of love besides words, and sometimes these are more expressive 
than any words that might be used. You can easily watch her 
eyes — which you say are very bright and lovely — and likeivise the 
expression of her countenance and her general air and manner 
toward you, and thereby determine how far your suit is agree- 
able to her, and how ardently she would wish you to persist in it. 
If you have made any impression on lier heart, she can not 
wholly conceal it, and perhaps she will not try to do so. At any 
rate, she will not object to your her feelings toward you, 

and she may especially desire for a time the pleasure of an 
unspoken understanding with you — could anything be sweeter 
to young lovers? 

Be very careful, therefore, in all your advances toward her 
not to offend her delicacy or self-respect in the slightest degree. If 
there be anything in you that she will appreciate and admire, it 
will be this. And your own manly dignity, do not sacrifice that 
for her sake — site will not desire it. 

Even if she has the highest possible regard for you, she may 
still have a girl’s natural desire to be sought and courted ; and, 
without being at all vain or fond of flattery, she may wish to 
receive considerable homage and attention from you, before she 
will admit, even to her own consciousness, that she loves you. You 
can gracefully concede her this privilege— rather this right — with- 
out any fear of failure in your effort to win her heart and hand. 
Will it not be better for both of you, that your love for each other 
should be a plant of slow and steady growth, and that you should 
become well acquainted, before you are so deeply in love that you 
cannot obtain a true knowledge of each other’s character? Ask 
no woman to love you, Henry, until she knows what manner of 
man you are ! 

Perhaps your most effective way to win her love will be to let 
her see that you also desire her highest respect ; and if she sees 
that your love for her is tempered and restrained by your respect 
for her, she will not only esteem you more highly, but will love 
you more tenderly in the end ! You can easily let her know that 
you are in earnest in your suit without annoying her by haste or 


WOOING AND WAITING. 


17S 


urgency. The flowers enjoy the light and heat of the sun ; but if 
it shines on them too warmly, they are apt to wither and fade ! 

I believe that she is too noble to practice any sort of coquetry 
but even if there be a decided affinity between your nature and 
hers, she will not yield her heart to you without assiduous wooing. 
Let your attentions to her, however, be very delicate and refined, 
and as spiritual as possible. You will not only be surer to win her 
in this way, but after she is won, she will be infinitely more 
precious ! 

Courtship should not be a mere means of securing the prize 
you covet, but a mutual preparation for a life-union of respect 
and confidence as well as of love ! 

Whether you should make any expression whatever of your 
interest in her before leaving Beulah, in case you should accept 
the call to Excelsior, I am not prepared to say definitely, but I 
should think not. You could not possibly secure a definite 
response, or take with you her promise of marriage ; but you can 
take her high appreciation of your manliness and your professional 
talents — will not this be exceedingly precious to you ? 

The distance is not so great but that you can see her betimes 
and you can both have the pleasure and profit of friendly cor- 
respondence. 

Miss Carroll has already manifested considerable interest in 
your preaching and your ministry ; let her know, as frankly and 
delicately as possible, that you appreciate this at its full value, and 
are very grateful for it. She will count it the highest honor to be 
consulted by you in reference to your professional work ; and I 
have no doubt that whatever counsel or advice she may give you 
will be disinterested and free from all guile and affectation. And 
be careful that your interest in her shall not in any manner inter- 
fere with your attention to your ministerial duties — rather let it 
stimulate you to increased activity and earnestness. I am certain 
that if she were to express her desire on this point, it would agree 
with mine. 

My dear Henry, if you would know how to woo and win, you 
must first know how to avoo and avait ! 

From Your Aff^'ectionate Mother, 

Emma Ei.avood. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


PASTOR AND PEOPLE. 

Excelsior, Oct. — , 187-. 

My Dear Mother: 

I preached my first sermon in Excelsior to-day to a much 
larger congregation than I expected to see. You may judge your- 
self of my feelings as I looked into their faces — my relation to 
them so real, so vital — and they all seemed to realize this fact as 
•clearly as I did. I could see a large measure of sympathy in their 
countenances, but also close scrutiny and intense curiosity. 

And as I looked over the audience before the services began, 
notwithstanding my very limited acquaintance with them, I could 
easily see that it comprised many different classes of society. The 
dress and air of many of, the women, especially, betokened great 
wealth ; and, while I noticed none that were very poorly or shab- 
bily attired, I thought I could see very many men and women in 
the congregation who had a hard struggle to secure a comfortable 
livelihood — their faces showed this, if their dress did not. I could 
also see on the faces of some of the most prosperous business men 
to whom I had been introduced, marks of care and anxiety, and 
evidences that their energy and activity were severely taxing, if 
not slowly consuming, their vital powers. There were women 
there who looked as if they were severely burdened with domestic 
labors and family cares, and others I feared who were suffering 
from neglect, unkindness and abuse. Then there were the young 
and the gay in considerable numbers, as well as some that seemed 
very old and feeble, and others whose hearts were sore on account 
■of recent bereavements. 

I was so impressed with the variety of earthly condition in the 
audience, that I forgot to consider the question hov/ many of them 
were Christians and how many were not; but I was seized with an 
overpowering desire to preach to them in such a way that they 
would all be profited and edified ; and that seemed to be what 
they expected me to do. 


I’ASTOR AND PEOPLE. 


175 


We sang “Guide me, O, thou Great Jehovah,” and “How 
nrm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,” before the sermon, and 
•“Nearer, my God, to Thee” at the close of the services. I 
deemed it best to select old and familiar hymns for my first ser- 
vice; and the attention the audience paid to both the reading and 
singing of them satisfied me that I was right. 

When I stood up to pray, the silence and attention at first were 
very oppressive; but soon the very windows of heaven were 
opened, and the light and glory of God came down upon us. 
Although there was no audible manifestation on the part of the 
audience, I realized that their feelings were fu rapport with mine; 
and I felt that I was voicing their common desires and aspirations 
as well as my own; and when I concluded I almost thought I could 
hear a murmur of gratitude for the office I had rendered.* 

For Scriptural lessons I read Solomon’s Choice, I Kings, iii: 
-3-15, and the “Beatitudes,” Mathew v : 1-12 ; having taken pains to 
study these passages very carefully, so as to comprehend their full 
force and beauty, and make them expressive of my feelings on 
beginning my ministry in the place. And, O, what interest the 
people manifested as 1 read ! 

I preached to them half an hour — taking care not to occupy 
more time than that — from Isaiah i.v : 11-12 : 

“ For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, 
■“and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, that it may 
* give seed to the sower and bread to the eater ; 

“ So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth ; it 
■‘ shall not return unto me void ; but it shall accomplisli that which 
■* I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” 


♦The i)niy.er ofl'erecl by Elwood on this occasion was as follows: 

‘Mloly, holy, art thou, O Lord of Hosts! Heaven is thy throne, and tliy 
■dominion is from sea to sea. Thou art liifthcr than all heights and deeper than 
all de))ths.! Kut great and high and holy as thou art, we rejoice that thy ear is 
«ver open to our cry, and that thy hand is ever stretched out to help us and sus- 
tain us. Help us, we lu-ay thee, to adore thee, to worship thee, to love thee, and 
to rejoice in the blessedness of thy fatherly love! 

“•O, thou Eternal Si)irit, that dost perv.'ide all worlds, and dost abide with all 
•contrite hearts, we inay thee to enter our souls to-day, as we come hitherto 
l>ray and to worshij). (Quicken us, direct us, inspire us! Lift tis above all the 
things of time and sense, and ludp us to stand on the mountain heights, where 
■oureyes shall be feasted with the Inllnite Heauly, and our souls shall be made 
partakers of the Infinite Love! 

“O, thou Christ, make us like thyself. Clothe us in thy likeness and image, 
and breathe into us thy own s]drit; that we may be made partakers of thy 
divine nature, and become heirs with thee to an inheritance of immortal life. 

“ We thank thee, O Lord, for this church. We thank thee that, amid the 
energy and enterprise and material jirogrcss of this great city, it is in the hearts 


176 


HENKY ELWOOl). 


It was my purpose in this discourse to show how the word of 
the Lord is adapted to the wants and capacities of the human soul, 
and how thorough and effective is its influence upon the hearts 
and lives of the sons of men. During the delivery of the sermon 
I experienced such a conception of the beauty and excellence of 
our holy religion, that 1 involuntarily declared that it needed no 
external testimony to prove that it was a message from heaven. 
1 suppose if Prof. Ironsides had been present he would have 
taken me to task for discrediting miracles and prophecy as the 
foundations of the Christian faith ; but I had no idea of doing any- 
thing of the kind at the time. 

\"ernon has a large medical practice, which keeps him very 
busy ; but he complains of loneliness a good deal of the time, and 
was exceedingly glad to have me come to Excelsior. 

I am getting acquainted with the people as rapidly as possible, 
and can already see that it will be very difficult to minister to them 
in such a manner as to satisfy them all. It will require great pa- 
tience and wisdom, as well as constant prayer. 

And in addition to this I am sorely beset with doubts in refer- 
ence to “ future punishment ” and “ total depravity,” and I have 
gi*ave fears that I shall have doubts on other points besides these. 
So serious has this issue become in my mind that I fear the Pres- 
bytery of Excelsior, which is to meet next week in my chui'ch, 
would refuse to install me as pastor if all the membors knew my 
views — or rather doubts. Why should I be tormented — I can not 
use a milder term— in this way, just as 1 am entering on my min- 
istry in this place, and when there is such a prospect of usefulness 
Irefore me ? 


of so many men ami women to turn aside for a time to the worship of the Most 
High (^od and to tlie exercise of tlieir higher and nobler uiitures. O, tliat this 
church might he a liglit wliich shall lighten every man that cometh within its 
influence. (H ant that all its memhers nuiy he worthy of the Idirist whose name 
they hear. Help them all to become examples of honor, examples of honesty, 
examples of benevolence, examples of sclf-sacrillce; and may the light of all 
their graces and virtues so shine, that men may nee their good works, iind glorify 
onr Father in Heaven ! 

“ May this sacred temple where we are gathered to-day he a jtlace where the 
Lord by his .Spirit delighteth to dwell; a place where the rich and the poor 
shall meet together, for the I.ord is the maker of them all; where everv weary 
ht>art shall seek rest and sympathy and comfort; and where every lost soul, 
whether of man or woman, shall Iind an ark of refuge and a harbor of safety. 

“ Help us all to-day to cast our burdens on the Lord that he may sustain us. 
Help us to lay onr heads upon the bosom of the Son of Man, that he may speak 
peace unto onr souls, and write his name upon onr foreheads! 

“ We would not ask thee for wealth or ease or exemption from care and labor 
and sacrilice. Rather wouhl we pray for whatsoever portion and whatsoever 


PASTOR AND PEOPLE. 


177 


The city is full of saloons (nearly one to every hundred inhab- 
itants) besides very many other agencies of evil; and it seems to 
me I ought to be directing all my thought and energy to opposing 
these, instead of having an incessant struggle to keep down the 
doubts that arise in my own breast ! 

I called on Allison the day I received your letter and showed 
it to him. He read it over slowly, and then said in a very low tone: 
“ How much better these women understand matters of courtship 
than we do — than I do.” 

We spent several evenings together before I left Beulah; and 
just before we parted the last time he laid his hand on my shoul- 
der with the remark: “ Perhaps you are following my advice and 
your mother’s too. I told you to secure the prize, and she told 
you how to secure her. You ought to thank the Lord for so clever 
a mother! ” From Your Affectionate Son, 

Hknry Elwood. 


gifts will liest qualify us to do thy will and thy work. Give us large hearts; 
give us pure thoughts; give us high and noble aspirations; give ns practical 
wisdom; give us clear sense; that we may discern wisdom and judgment and 
justice, and fulfil the end and aim of our being beneath the sun. 

“ May we ever seek to walk in the paths of wisdom and truth and righteous- 
ness; and as our days and our years pass, may our lives become grander and 
nobler, more and more beautiful, and more and more beneficent. IVlierever 
there is darkness, help us to carry light and hope; wherever tliere are broken 
hearts help us to bind them up; wherever there are tears help us to wipe them 
away ! 

“O, Sun of Kighteousness, shine upon us with liealing in thy beams; dis- 
solve our doubts; inberpi'et our visions; scatter our darkness; jiurify our hearts; 
heal our infirmities; help our unbelief; qualify us for every duty, for every ser- 
vice and for every trial; and so inspire and direct ns in all things, that when 
our earthly lives shall close, we may rise on wings triumphant over and above 
the stars of heaven, to join in the chorus of cherubim and seraphim, and to be 
forever with the Lord 1 Amen ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


DOCTORS AND DOCTRINES. 

“Elwood,” I have talked with quite a number of 
your congregation since Sunday ; and they were all 
delighted with your sermon and other services. You did 
a wise thing in coming to Excelsior, and you will not 
regret it.” 

It was thus that Vernon addressed his friend in the 
latter’s room on the Saturday evening following the deliv- 
ery of Elwood’s sermon, as recorded in the previous chap- 
ter. The tone was very cordial, but tinged with sadness. 

“I was very much gratified with the reception they 
gave me,” said Elwood ; “but I can hardly expect such a 
congregation every Sunday, as a great many came last 
Sunday out of curiosity, I have no doubt.” 

“You may not have so large a one, perhaps; but you 
will have an abundance of hearers, as the membership of 
the church is very large, and you have already made an 
excellent impression.” 

As P^lwood made no direct reply to this, Vernon pres- 
ently continued, a little more sadly: “During all the 
time of your .services Sunday I was thinking of our College 
days, and also the few months we were together at Union 
Seminary when I — ” 

He here paused very suddenly, as if expecting 
Elwood to assist him in expressing his feelings; but the 
latter made no response, except a friendly and sympa- 
thetic look. 


DOCTORS AND DOCTRINP:S. 


17 (>- 

“ You haven’t forgotten that we were classmates both 
at the College and Seminary, have you, Elwood ? ” 

“Why, no,” was the quick response, “I have 
thought a great deal about it, especially since I came here, 
and I have been very happy to renew our acquaintance 
and friendship.” 

“Elwood, I was going to say a few moments ago, 
that my hearing you preach last Sunday, awakened very 
peculiar feelings in my breast ; in short, I could not help 
envying you your office and position as a minister. For 
the first time since I left the Seminary, a feeling of regret 
came over me that I did not continue my theological stud- 
ies — but no, that would have been impossible, utterly im- 
possible. ” 

“ But, Vernon, you have entered upon another noble 
profession, in which you have been very successful, and 
your practice is increasing all the time?” 

“Yes, I have a profession in which I have all the 
practice I want, and all the reputation too, I sometimes 
feel ! ” was the rather melancholy answer. 

“You are surely not getting tired so early in your 
career ? ” 

“No, I would not admit that I am; but, Elwood, 
there is something in me that refuses to be satisfied with 
the fruits of medical practice, whether they consist in 
money or reputation. I suppose it is because I had the 
ministry in view so many years.” 

“For that matter, ” said Elwood, “the ministry is 
still open to you ; there is no law compelling you to con- 
tinue the practice of medicine.” 

‘ • There are many laws besides those on the statute- 
book,” was the rather rueful answer. “ It would be just 
as impossible for me to enter the ministry to-day as it was 
when I left the Seminary. The practice of medicine, for 
even a few years, doesn’t tend to restore one’s belief in 


180 


HENKY ELWOOJ). 


miracles. The tides of the sea ebb and flow just as they 
did six thousand — for aught I know six million — years 
ago; the laws of Nature are all unchanged-and unchange- 
able.” 

“ Except by divine power,” interrupted Elwood ; but 
Vernon noticed that he winced somewhat under his (Ver- 
non’s) statement of Nature’s inflexibility. 

“ Very well, show me the miracle or prove it by suf- 
ficient testimony, and I will believe ; but” — mellowing his 
tone — “ I do not wish to argue the question ; on the con- 
trary, I often wish I could believe in miracles, so I could 
count myself a Christian once more, but even that seems 
impossible. So I continue the same round of professional 
duty from day to day, from week to week, and shall, I 
suppose, from year to year.” 

“ But don’t you find great satisfaction in your work'” 
asked Elwood, “You have constant calls from all parts of 
the city ; your opinion is consulted in critical cases ; you 
are building up a professional reputation of which any 
man njight be proud ; and besides all these facts, you are 
doing the people great service.” 

“ service, you might say, more properly,” was 
the answer. ‘ ‘ At any rate, I go when they call me and 
because they call me — perhaps that is all I can claim for 
myself.” 

“Why, Vernon, I have always supposed that the 
standard of duty among physicians was a noble and disin- 
terested one, and also that their usefulness to society was 
as great as that of any other profession — unless it be the 
ministry.” 

“ Far be it from me to say you are wrong,” Vernon 
replied. “I was only revealing my own condition of 
mind to you. When I began to practice medicine, I sup- 
posed that, whatever might be said of other professions, 
7ve had an exact science, not only free from superstition. 


DOCTORS AND DOCTRINES. 


181 


but likewise free from speculation and uncertainty; and 
I actually pitied the lawyers and preachers, who, as I sup- 
posed, had to deal so largely in speculation and make 
their way through so much maze and mystification, if not 
downright deception, and I wondered how it was possible 
for them to maintain a true standard of honesty. I did 
not have to treat a thousand and one cases before I found 
out that if medicine is indeed an exact science, I was a 
very f;/exact practitioner of it. I soon learned that many 
of the specific remedies laid down in the books were some- 
times wholly ineffective, and that every case of disease has 
a psychological as well as physiological aspect.” 

“ But all that did not effect your professional integ- 
rity?” interrupted Elwood. 

“I hope not,” was the reply, “ but my professional 
pride was greatly humbled. Will you believe me when I 
tell you that the longer 1 practice medicine the less faith 
I have in our specific remedies ? And yet I go whenever I 
am called, and must needs ‘prescribe’ for every patient.” 

“ You don’t mean to say that you prescribe dishon- 
estly or deceive your patients?” 

“The point I was seeking to make is, that, however 
much or however little confidence I may have in the med- 
iciries 1 use, sick people all want to be treated ; and when 
they call me I feel bound to give my utmost interest and 
attention to each case, studying faithfully all its aspects 
and conditions, and doing everything I can to restore the 
patient to health, which process on my part involves great 
wear and tear of nervous force.” 

“ But } Ou have had marked success with most of your 
patients, haven’t you ? ” 

“ Very many of them get well ; but I often wonder 
whether it is on account of my medicines, or in spite of 
them ! While I often feel regret that I have so little faith 
in my prescriptions, on the whole, I believe that my work 


182 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


is better than if I relied entirely on the formulas of the 
books. I would not like to confess that my standard of 
honesty is lower than that of physicians who prescribe in 
the ‘ regular ’ Avay, and would almost think they had to do 
penance if they should fail to give any organ its technical 
name, or should write a prescription in the King’s English. 
Still I frequently prescribe what I may call ‘ make-believe ’ 
medicines, because the patient is in such a psychological 
condition that he requires some visible and tangible rem- 
edy; and when such is the case, my prescription is as 
essential, perhaps more so, than when I give medicines for 
their direct physical effect.” 

“Is it not your duty to diagnose the minds of your 
patients as well as their bodies?” asked Elwood, in the 
tone of one who knew not how deep water he was getting 
into. 

“It certainly is ; but there is likewise danger of my' 
falling into indifference and charlatanry, and I can only 
justify myself in practicing as I do by keeping a high stan- 
dard of honor in my own breast. I am not required to tell 
my patients how ‘ harmless ’ are the remedies I sometimes 
prescribe for them, or how far their diseases are ‘ in their 
minds’ rather than in their bodies; but I am required to 
study their complaints faithfully, and let them see that I 
have a real and genuine interest in my work.” 

“You haven’t gone so far in your psyxhological 
treatment as to believe in ‘ Christian Science ’ or the 
‘ Faith Cure ? ’ asked Elwood, smiling. 

“ There is no danger of that,” was the quick answer ; 
“but although I am a ‘regular’ physician, I do not 
believe that these people are all deceivers ; perhaps I have 
no right to say that any of them are such. On the other 
hand, I know they often produce effects that are marve- 
lous, and they actually cure a great many nervous disor- 
ders. Most of their claims seem to me preposterous ; but 


DOCTOKS AND DOCTRINES. 


183 


this should not prevent my acknowledging what I know 
they accomplish. They certainly hold the fundamental 
principle that the mind has great power over the body — 
who shall assume to prescribe the measure or limit of that 
power ? And as long as I can not determine how much of 
psychological influence enters into my own practice, 
why should I deny all virtue and efficacy to that which 
they exercise? — even though their fundamental theory 
seems to be a false one? At any rate, they preach a 
GOSPEL OF HEALTH, which is not to be despised. But, 
Elwood, you seem to be in a ‘ brown study ’ over all 
I have said to you ” — and Vernon turned an inquiring face 
toward his friend. 

After some moments, Ehvood spoke: “ I was tracing 
the analogy — or, at least, what seems to me the analogy — 
between your work and mit?e. If a physician needs to 
understand the state of people’s minds and bodies in order 
to prescribe for them, how much more does the preacher 
need to understand their whole natures in order to minis- 
ter to them properly.” 

It was now Vernon’s turn for the “brown study,” 
and after considerable reflection, he responded rather 
slowly: “ But you will have to stop there; you can not 
surely claim any analogy between the Confession of Faith 
and Materia Mcdica ? ’ ’ 

Elwood felt the force of this, but immediately an- 
svv^ered, in a very thoughtful manner: “That very ques- 
tion arose in my mind before you spoke; but I could give 
no definite answer to it. If, however, the physician must 
exercise his reason and judgment so largely in a profes- 
sion based on what many claim to be an exact science — 
you say you used to have that opinion yourself — must not 
the preacher exercise all his faculties on a still larger scale, 
in applying the Scriptures and doctrines of his church to 
his hearers ? ” 


184 


HEXKY ELWOOD. 


“ That wasn’t the view I used to take of the preach- 
er’s office ” — Vernon’s tone always became sad when he 
referred to his former years — “ I was taught that the mes- 
sage of the preacher was given to him in the Bible, in 
plain and distinct terms, and that all he had to do was to 
declare it to men, whether they would receive it or not — 
such at least was my understanding of the teaching I 
received. Still I believe some preachers are taking a wider 
range now, and are trying to reconcile Christianity with 
Reason and Science and Philosophy, instead of proving its 
divine origin by miracles and prophecies. I even read in 
a paper the other day that the influence of German Ration- 
alism is beginning to be felt in Union Seminary, and that 
some of its professors are denying the infallibility or the 
‘ inerrancy ’ of the Bible. Preaching has become a very 
different thing from what I supposed it was when I quit 
the Seminary. Doctors of Divinity lose faith in their 
specific remedies and their formulated prescriptions as well 
as Doctors of Medicine and both of them continue to 
practice their professions because the people need their 
services and call for them. I guess there is some analogy 
between their cases after all.” ; 

“ More than you thought at any rate.” 

“More than I thought when I began to study medi- 
cine, you may safely say." 

• “Vernon,” Elwood here interrupted, “let me tell 
you why I was so quick to see the analogy of which we 
spoke. For some time past 1 have been seriously 
troubled with doubts about ‘future punishment,’ as set 
forth in orthodox standards ; and when you spoke of los- 
ing faith in your formulated prescriptions, I could not help 
seeing the similarity between your case and mine. I am 
utterly unable to determine what I should preach in refer- 
ence to this doctrine, and there are at least shadmvs of 
doubt as to other doctrines resting on my mind.” 


DOCTOllS AND DOCTIUNES. 


185 


“ And I suppose other orthodox preachers have quit 
preaching about it because they are in the same condition 
of mind,” responded Vernon ; “ but what will they all do 
when they begin to doubt whether the Bible is a revela- 
tion from heaven, and whether Christianity is anything 
more than a human religion ? As for myself, my religious- 
ness has never entirely left me, and I would gladly be 
again counted as a religious man and take some part in 
religious services — provided I could do so without losing 
my sense of honor, without being guilty of deception 
and hypocrisy.” 

“You ought not to find that so difficult, it seems to 
me, Vernon,” said Elwood, .in as encouraging a tone as he 
could command. 

“Alas,” was Vernon’s response, “it is very hard to 
renew one’s youth ; and, as I said before, the practice of 
medicine does not tend to make one believe in anything 
that can not be fully demonstrated to the reason, if not 
brought to the knowledge of the senses. The doctors 
assimilate the doctrines very slowly, if they can be said to 
assimilate them at all.” 

Vernon here rose to leave, but just before he reached 
the door, turned to Elwood and asked: “Did you know 
that Mark Conklin is in Excelsior?” 

“Is it possible.” said Elwood. “ When did you see 
him ? ” 

“Only to-day, and then I spent but a few minutes with 
him,” responded Vernon. “ I just happened to meet him 
as I was going by Higgins & Muggins’ law office.” 

“What is he doing here? Where has he spent the 
years since we saw him in New York? ” 

“ He told me that he traveled over both Europe and 
America until his patrimony was exhausted, and that he 
had now taken a clerkship with Higgins & Muggins. I 


186 


HEXRY ELWOOl). 


told him you were here, and he at once said he must call 
and see you ! ” 

Before \"ernon reached the door a knock was heard, 
and, on opening it, Ehvood again stood face to face with his 
old classmate. 

Conklin showed some marks of years upon him, but 
he was still vigorous in body, and after the greeting was 
over, he sat down with the same easy air that he had car- 
ried in former years. 

After numerous inquiries about Conklin’s travels, 
which he answered with more or less definiteness, rather 
more or less ///definiteness, Ehvood said to him: “You 
look like the same fellow you^always were, Conklin.” 

“I may look the =ame ; but did you ev^er figure up 
the difference it makes in a man when he has to work for 
a living, if he gets one ? Have you any idea how it makes 
me feel ? How many hundred years do you suppose it 
will take me to get used to it ? ” 

“ I suppose it would be just as hard for me to learn 
to do without work,” was Elwood’s answer. 

“ No accounting for differences of taste, is there?” 
said Conklin, in his drollest manner; “but how are you 
both getting along in this beautiful and growing city? Do 
you think )’ou will save Excelsior from destruction by 
your preaching as easily as Jonah — if there ever was such 
a man — saved Nineveh ?” 

“I can not tell what I shall accomplish,” responded 
Elwood, “but I hope I shall not labor altogether in vain. 
There is, at least, a great opportunity for usefulness before 
me. ” 

“I meant my question for both of you,” said Conk- 
lin; “but I forgot that Vernon is a Doctor of Medicine, 
instead of a Doctor of Divinity. How did that happen, 
Vernon ? Did Union Seminary become so heterodox, that 
you couldn’t complete your theological course there, with- 


DOCTORS AND DOCTRINES. 


187 


out losing your faith in the Bible ? I believe you told me 
you quit Ihe Seminary soon after I met you in New 
York?” 

“Conklin,” said Vernon, “I quit studying theology 
because I couldn’t believe in miracles, and I didn’t want 
to become a Christian minister, when I doubted the ver}- 
foundation stone of Christianity.” 

“And you joined the noble army of physicians in 
order to escape all superstition and uncertainty — and 
quackery ? I should think you have found exactly the 
profession that would suit you, Vernon. Everything 
about it is positive and certain. The physician always 
knows what ails the patient and what medicine to pre- 
scribe ; and the medicine he gives always cures — or kills ! 
It suits you, doesn’t it? ” 

As Vernon made no immediate reply to this, Conk- 
lin continued : “ But why should you give up theology 

merely because you wasn’t certain about those Bible sto- 
ries? — do all theological students at Union Seminary leave 
the institution as soon as they begin to question the ‘ iner- 
rancy ’ of every chapter and verse in the Bible? ” 

“I can not answer for others, Conklin,” replied Ver- 
non, “I took the only course that was possible forme.” 

] “And how about jjw/r orthodoxy, Elwood ? ” said 
Conklin, turning towards the latter. “You still believe 
everything that a Presbyterian preacher has to believe, I 
suppose?” — “Hades,” “Miracles,” “Atonement,” 
“Trinity,” “Predestination,” and all the other articles of 
the Confession ? ” 

This was rather severe probing for Elwood, but he 
soon replied; “ I believe all truth, Conklin, and I desire to 
obtain the largest possible view of it ; and, although I have 
not as clear an understanding of all these doctrines as I 
would wish, I yet hope to obtain such light and wisdom 


188 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


as will enable me to do my whole duty in the position 
that I occupy.” 

“And don’t you also hope, ” said Conklin, “that I 
will have enough wisdom to fill my position of clerk for 
the firm of Higgins & Muggins, so as to help them show 
the people what a beautiful and perfect science the law is, 
and always has been since the world began? ” 

And then Conklin and Vernon both withdrew, leaving 
Elwood to complete the preparation of his sermon for 
Sunday morning. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


WOOING AND WORKING. 

Excelsior, April — , 188-. 

My De.\r Mother: 

Nine months of my pastorate in this place have already passed; 
and in a little over three months the anniversary of my installa- 
tion will be here. 

I am happy to write to you that my congregations are still 
good; and at each communion we have taken in a number of new 
members, some fifty or sixty in all. The people continue very 
friendly, and give me repeated assurances that my preaching is 
acceptable to them. 

The conflict that I feared between the rich and the poor in the 
church has not come yet. I sometimes fear that I have been too- 
anxious to avoid it; and yet, so far as I am aware, I have not sac- 
rificed any principle of right in my efforts after peace and har- 
mony. 1 have endeavored to treat all alike, and have recognized 
the claim of every man and woman in the church to my best ser- 
vice in his and her behalf. I have sought to present the Gospel of 
Christ to all classes and conditions of men, and have endeavored 
to make all feel that they are welcome in my church. In my 
intercourse with the people I have endeavored to show them that 
I respect them for what they are, and not for their wealth — or the 
lack of it. 

But, although I preach thus and believe thus, the great differ- 
ence in their external condition oppresses my heart at times veiy 
seriously. It is hard to see why there should be, even among my 
own people, such luxury and ease on the one hand, and such 
severe grinding toil on the other, such a surfeit of earthly goods 
with some, and with others such inability to obtain more than the 
barest necessaries of life. Whenever I reveal my feelings on this 
subject to any of the business and professional men whom I meet 
they almost invariably say, “ It was always so, and al>vays will be 
so,” and then commence talking about the growth and prosperity 
of the city. But I can not drive the subject out of my mind in. 


190 


HENKY ELWOOD. 


this way, and I am constantly asking myself the question whether 
I am doing all that I ought to do to remedy such a state of atfairs. 

I have been especially exercised on this subject because I hear 
so much complaint of Mr, Simpkinson, who is one of the elders of 
my church, on account of the manner in Avhich he treats the ten- 
ants living in his buildings in the portion of the city called 
•“ Egypt.” I am satisfied that the criticisms of the public do him 
more or less injustice, but at the same time he comes far short of 
the teachings of Christ in his dealings with some of his tenants. 

Would I transcend my functions if I should present the mat- 
ter to him? Would he even give me a hearing? Do I understand 
the case well en'uigh and know enough about his tenants to tell 
him wherein he is wrong? And, if I should attempt to do so, 
would it not be apt to renew the strife that formerly prevailed in 
the church, and which 1 am so anxious to avoid? Such questions 
.as these come before me from time to time and perplex me not a 
little. 

And he is by no means the only rich man in my church who 
needs admonition in reference to his dealings with the poor. 

1 must confess that my feelings on this subject have been con- 
siderably alfected by a tailor named (Tibbert, who has a small store 
near my hotel, and whose acquaintance I formed soon after com- 
ing here. He is not a member of any church, and denounces all 
religion as “superstition” and all worship as “ slavery,” but he 
manifests a peculiar interest in all questions relating to the poorer 
classes of people; and he has such a terse and vigorous way of 
expressing his views, that I am compelled to listen to him. He 
fears neither man nor devil (nor God I almost think) in his speech; 
but he has such an incisive and pungent way of putting things, 
that, altliough a nian of limited education, he always has the last 
word, whether he is discussing politics, social questions or religion. 
He boldly declares, in the presence of rich men, that laboring peo- 
ple are compelled to contribute a large part of their earnings to 
•support the rich in idleness and luxury, and that neither preachers 
nor newspapers dare to tell the truth on the subject. 

I was talking with him one day, in the presence of quite a 
crowd of citizens, about some (luestion relating to our city affairs, 
and rather inadvertently remarked, that the best men of the 
-city were in favor of the particular policy that I was advocating, 
when, in his peculiarly forcible manner, he broke in: “ Who the 
d — 1 do you mean by the ‘ best men ’ in the city? The best men in 
Excelsior are the men that carry the hods and dig the sewers ! ” 

As usual he secured the ear of the crowd, and I could not 
begrudge them the laugh they had at my expense. 


WOOING AND WORKING. 


191 


On anothei’ occasion, Avhile in his store having my measure 
taken for a new coat, I asked him if he attended church, and on 
his replying that he did not, I invited him to attend mine some 
SundaJ^ 

“ What for?” he asked, very abruptly. 

” Why — Why — Gibbert,” I replied, ” I think it wouldn’t do you 
any harm, at best, and the services might be of some profit to you.” 

“ Does it do people any good to attend church ?” he inquired, 
in a very sharp tone, as soon as I was through with my answer. 

” Yes, to be sure,” I replied, “ it will make them better, if they 
-come in the right spirit? ” 

“ Then there must have been some mighty mean people in 
Excelsior at one time in their lives, if they have been getting bet- 
ter all the time they have been attending the various churches,” 
lie said. “But I won’t insinuate that your members have been 
getting better any faster than the others; indeed, I should rather 
■say, that some of them have been getting better most confounded 
slow ! ” 

He raised the laugh on me again, but promised to come to 
■church some Sunday, and has since done so two or three times. 

Notwithstanding his almost total unbelief in everything relig- 
ious or spiritual, he has some very clever points of character, and 
if he were a Christian, 1 believe he would be a very useful man. 

I was very glad to learn from your last letter, that Mr. Ed- 
wards has such confidence that the Lord will preserve me from 
serious error and p”event my becoming a Universalist; but, if I could 
see him, I would feel bound to tell him that my views concerning 
future punishment are still very much unsettled; and I also think 
it is a great mistake to tell men that they are totally depraved ; 
but I have come to the conclusion that it is better to be humble 
and reverent in reference to these points, than to dogmatize upon 
them. 

But occasionally serious questions concerning the Atonement, 
the Trinity, and the Infallibility of the Bible come across my 
mind, and make me question whether, after all, I have not mista- 
ken my calling. Gn the other hand, I have received so manj’ 
assurances from the people that my ministry is acceptable to 
them, and my attachment to them is so strong, that it would be 
well-nigh impossible for me even to withdraw from this church 
and seek another field. 

When I first came here I thought I should preach some of my 
old sermons ; but there has seemed to be such a demand every 
Sunday for special study and preparation, that I have only used 
one or two old manuscripts since 1 came here. 


192 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


I have taken almost the exact course you advised with refer- 
ence to Miss Carroll. Availing myself of the privilege of corres- 
ponding with her, I wrote to her soon after I came here, giving 
her some account of my work and experience, with a description 
of city life so far as it had come under my observation. Her 
answer was a decided surprise to me, so lively was the interest she 
manifested in every topic or subject suggested by my letter. 

And when she set out to give me items and news from Beulah, 
how charming and graceful seemed her pen ! Every house or 
tree or animal, that she described or touched upon, excited my 
attention; and the play of her fancy made the most insignificant 
circumstances and events both lively and interesting. 

Her appreciation of my deference and confidence in consult- 
ing her about my work was couched in the most choice and deli- 
cate terms, and her response, while very modest and unaffected, 
was so clear, so suggestive and so encouraging ! 

Her letter was not a long one, but it was full of piquancy 
and variety, and the spirit of it was very friendly and cordial; and 
she closed with a neat and graceful expression of her continued 
interest in my ministerial career. 

Which I interpreted as an invitation to write to her concern- 
ing my labors as fully and freely as I desired! 

Her subsequent answers to my letters were still more charm- 
ing and interesting, each one being a new revelation of her 
womanly and intellectual qualities, and each one gratifying me 
with an increased interest, as I imagined, in my ministry. 

After receiving a number of such letters, I unfolded some of 
the details of my Avork, giving description of persons and circum- 
stances, and inviting any comments or suggestions she might offer. 
I was in every case gratified with the insight and clear understand- 
ing that she manifested — it almost seemed to me that she knew the 
people and understood the circumstances I described to her, better 
than I did myself. Her suggestions were, however, such an appeal 
to my reason and judgment, that they seemed more like inspiration 
than advice. 

When 1 wrote to her that I feared a conflict in reference to the 
attendance of the poorer classes at church, she replied : “ If you 
make your preaching so noble and eloquent that both the rich and 
poor will want to hear you, the people will open their pews to all 
who come, no matter how poor they are ! ” 

In reference to the theological doubts which I took the liberty 
to express to her, she wrote : “ It seems to me that you can only 
settle your views of future punishment and the other doctrines of 
your church by increased interest and activity in your labors and 


WOOING AND WORKING. 


193 


by cultivating the spirit of self-sacrifice. The creed should be inter- 
preted by the cross. ‘ The words that. I speak unto you, they are 
spirit, and they are life,’ said the Lord Jesus.” 

I made a trip to Beulah on professional business a few weeks 
ago ^ and, although I took a very pleasant afternoon drive with 
her into the country, and conversed with her on a great variety of 
topics, she warded off all my efforts, both direct and indirect, to 
introduce the subject of love and matrimony. 

When I expressed my gratitude for the interest she had mani- 
fested in my ministry and for her appreciation of my fitness for 
the pulpit of the Excelsior church, she rather playfully responded: 
“ O, we can not help seeing the stars when they shine on us ! ” 

I was so encouraged by this that I ventured to say to her : 
“ If I could only have you in my congregation at Excelsior, Miss 
Carroll — ” 

“ You could count one more hearer in addition to the large 
number you already have, couldn’t you ?” she responded, in the 
same merry tone, and then turned the conversation to some other 
point so skillfully that I found it impossible to make any farther 
effort in that direction ; and I was compelled to return to Excel- 
sior without any clearer understanding of her feelings toward me. 
But I am expecting to go there again in a few weeks to preach a 
sermon at the installation of my successor ; and I am cherishing 
the hope that she will at least be ready to hear ni}’^ avowal of love 
and devotion. From Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Ei.wood. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


WOOING AND WINNING. 

At the appointed time Elwood took the cars for 
Beulah, with his installation sermon fully prepared for de- 
livery. 

He met a number of his friends at the depot and on 
the streets of the village, all of whom were greeted with 
his usual frankness and cordiality. 

He had accepted the offer of Dr. and Mrs. Goodway’^s 
hospitality ; but he desired first to make a call on Allison. 
He found the latter poring over a volume of Emerson, 
which he was very ready to lay aside for a chat with 
Elwood. 

“Glad to learn from the Excelsior papers how well 
you are getting along,” was Allison’s hearty expression as 
soon as their first greeting was concluded, “and I guess in 
this case you will allow me to say, ‘I told you so.’ I 
onl>- wish your happiness was completed by a union — at 
least an engagement — with Miss Carroll.” 

In response to this, Elwood opened his bosom to 
Allison as freely as he had done to his mother, and 
reported the progress he had made. 

As soon as he had concluded, Allison replied : 
“ Elwood, these women’s hearts are very hard to fathom. 
I would not be too confident about Miss Carroll’s feeling 
toward you ; but if I am an interpreter at all, she cares 
more for you than she has ever given you reason to sup- 
pose.” 


WOOING AND WINNING. 


195 - 


“ I have arranged to stay here a day or two after the 
installation and will probably call to see her,” was 
Elwood’s response. 

“I have only one thing more to say, Elwood,” con- 
tinued Allison, after a few minutes’ silence: “I don’t 
claim that you are under any obligations to me in this 
matter — as the utmost I could claim would be that I 
relinquished what I did not possess and could never hope 
to obtain — but I showed my friendship and good-will, 
didn’t I ?” 

“You surely did, Allison, and I shall appreciate 
your nobleness as long as I live, whatever be the out- 
come.” 

“I only ask,” responded Allison, “that I shall 
always have )'our — I mean your united — respect and 
friendship. ” 

“You shall certainly have mine; ana I guess you 
know Alice Carroll well enough to feel in no danger of 
losing the high regard she has for you — whether she 
accepts me or not.” 

And, after a few minutes of general conversation, 
Elwood took his leave and hastened to Dr. Goodway’s 
house. 

His reception here was an overflow of sympathy and 
kindness. For some minutes the Doctor and Mrs. Good- 
way vied with each other in expressions of their pleasure 
and satisfaction at meeting him, and until the time came 
for the installation services in the evening, they continued 
to manifest their feelings in words of sincerest regard, 
interspersed, in Mrs. Goodway’s case, with one or two 
very complimentary allusions to Alice Carroll, taking care 
not to couple the young woman’s name too directly with 
Elwood’s. 

And, as a reward of her pains, she had the satisfaction 


196 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


of seeing the color in Elwood’s face and a slight drooping 
of his eyelids whenever Alice’s name was mentioned. 

The church was crowded at an early hour; and 
Elwood was at his best in the delivery of his sermon. 
The friendly, sympathetic faces of his old parishioners 
both rested and inspired him ; and he greatly surprised his 
hearers by the increased breadth of thought and the 
intense spirituality that were manifest throughout the dis- 
course. 

Mr. Carroll and Alice were present ; and Elwood not 
only had the satisfaction of her attention and interest in 
the sermon ; but when he shook hands with her after the 
services, he thought he saw enough love and admiration in 
her eyes to justify an avowal of his feelings toward her 
before returning to Excelsior. 

Was he mistaken ? 

After they had all retired for the night, Mrs. Good- 
way said to the Doctor: “Josiah, I don’t believe Mr. 
Elwood and Alice will need any more help from me in 
reference to their acquaintance with each other. I never 
saw her face look so bright as it did while he was preach- 
ing to-night ; and they shook hands so cordially after the 
services were over. He is going to stay a few days in 
Beulah, isn’t he ? ” 

“I think he said he would not return until day after 
to-morrow,” was the Doctor’s comforting answer — and 
they were soon asleep. 

Mrs. Goodway could not resist her inclination to men- 
tion Alice’s name again in the morning ; but it was with 
less point and directness than the evening before. She 
saw no further color in Elwood’s face ; but the expression 
of his eyes satisfied her pretty well. 

Elwood spent the forenoon in calling upon friends and 
acquaintances in different parts of the village. He received 
a number of invitations to dinner, and a still larger num- 


WOOING AND WINNING. 


197 


ber to tea, but declined them all. He did this with the 
best grace possible ; but he found it very hard to make the 
people see why the Goodways should be the only family 
he would permit to bestow its hospitality upon him. He 
might have plead “ previous arrangements ” with perfect 
truthfulness; but this would have raised curious inquiries 
that he was in no mood to answer. 

Mrs. Goodway’s dinner was prepared promptly at 
twelve o’clock ; and Elwood asked to be excused imme- 
diately after it was over, as he had an engagement to see 
a friend at one o’clock. Mrs. Goodway noticed some em- 
barrassment in his manner; but she wisely refrained from 
comment, keenly suspecting who the “friend” in ques- 
tion might be. 

He rang the bell at Mr. Carroll’s a few minutes before 
one, and found Alice ready for the stroll over the Beulah 
hills, which they had agreed upon. It was a fine May 
afternoon, the sun being out in full brightness, and the air 
just cool enough to be very refreshing. 

The exercise of climbing the hills stirred their blood 
and brought a decided glow to their cheeks; but, as they 
took frequent rests, neither of them complained of weari- 
ne.ss. After an hour or two’s intense enjoyment in walk- 
ing and viewing the river and surrounding country, they 
at length reached the hill where the\- both remembered 
that they first met “eight years ago this month.” In- 
stinctively they moved toward the tree under which they 
then sat. When they reached it they halted, and looked 
upon the scene about them in every direction, thrilling the 
while with mutual delight and entrancement ! 

O, that all wooers and lovers knew how to bask in 
the smiles of Mother Nature, as they seek to blend their 
hearts and lives together ! 

Presently they sat down on the grass, and presently 
after Elwood spoke: 


198 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“ Miss Alice — may I call you Alice to-day?” 

“ That was the name by which I was first introduced 
to you,” she gayly answered, 

“ Miss Alice,” he continued, “it is just eight years 
since we met on this hill ; but it seems to me everything 
around us looks just as it did then. There is the same 
river, the same trees, the same sky, the same flowers, the 
same green grass, and the same sun overhead.” 

“But we are each eight years older than we were 
then,” she answered, in her brightest tone; and then 
after a short pause: “Mr. Elwood, will you gratify my 
curiosity by telling me why you were so anxious to dis- 
cuss those grave educational problems with my father? 
Were you preparing your Commencement oration ? ” 

Then he recounted to her all the experiences narrated 
in our first chapter, not forgetting the contents of his 
mother’s letter received the same night ; and finding her 
so interested in his history, he reviewed his three years’" 
life in Union Seminary and New York city, following this 
with many experiences in his ministry not heretofore men- 
tioned. 

With rare piquancy, she likewise gave him a narra- 
tion of her eflbrts to gain admission to Beulah College and 
the success that had attended them, stating with charming 
frankness, that her meeting with him and the conversation 
between him and her father had given to her her first aspi- 
ration for a higher education than she could secure in the 
public schools of Beulah. 

“ And your interest in that conversation has been in 
my memory all these eight years, but never so vividly as 
it is to day.” 

He paused and looked very tenderly into her eyes, 
until he almost saw his image reflected in them ; and, 
seizing her hands with a pressure that she did not resist, 
he said, in very soft tones: “I have never told you how 


WOOING AND WINNING. 


199 


much pleasure I used to derive from your presence at my 
prayer meetings while I was in Beulah, nor how — ” 

“Perhaps it was a mutual pleasure?” she inter- 
rupted. She spoke with the rising inflection, but her 
voice was exquisitely clear. 

“ And I was profited and inspired as well as pleased,” 
he continued, with considerable warmth, “and when 
you came to hear me preach those few Sundays, the 
influence upon me was greater than I can describe.” 

“Your sermons were very good, both before and 
after I attended,” she responded, with a very slight blush. 

He paused a few moments, looking into her eyes very 
tender!}', and meeting a response that thrilled his every 
nerve and fiber. 

“Miss Alice,” he said, with considerable tremor in 
his voice, but with a distinctness that could not fail to 
bring the blood to her face; “how I wish I could alv^ays 
have your presence in my church services — it would be 
such an inspiration to me ! ” 

She smiled very pleasantly at this, but gave no other 
response ; and he must needs speak more directly : “ How 
I wish I could always have your counsel, your sympathy, 
your love — may I not hope for this in return for the love,” 
(pressing her hands more warmly,) “that I have given to 
you ? — may I always call you my own, my-own-dear- 
Alice? ” 

She gave him a look of ineffable brightness, and, lay- 
ing her head on his shoulder, softly answered, “My 
DEAR Henry!” 

There was one firm, gentle clasp — one chaste kiss — 
and these two souls were henceforth and forever one ! 

Elwood was not required to explain his whereabouts ’ 
during the afternoon to Mrs. Goodway when he returned 
to tea — she had seen and was satisfied I 

She had not played the spy upon him in any manner; 


20(1 


HENKY EI.WOOI). 


but late in the afternoon she had happened to call at the 
house of a neighbor, who lived on the street by which they 
returned to Alice’s home, and hearing peculiarly soft foot- 
steps on the side-walk, and half guessing whose they were, 
she had gone to the window and gratified her innocent 
curiosity — only this, and nothing more ! 

She took care to make no sign of her knowledge to 
Elwood, but she could not help being very kind and gra 
cious to him. 

“I have a brief engagement this evening,” he said, 
with manifest embarrassment, asking to be excused soon 
after they withdrew from the table. 

“We hardly ever retire till ten o’clock, and some- 
times later than that,” was Mrs. Good way’s quick response. 

How blissful were the two hours he spent with Alice 
after he again reached her house. 

Surely her eyes were much brighter, her voice much 
sweeter, her dress more charming, her movements more 
graceful, because she was his own beloved ! 

“ Henry.” she said to him, as she smoothed his brow 
with her hand, “do you indeed want my .sympathy in 
everything pretaining to your ministerial work ? ” 

“It is because I desired this, that I sought you so 
ardently, Alice ; and the interest you have alread)- shown 
has been of very great value to me.” 

“ You honored me so highly in consulting me as you 
did, that I was was very glad to give you my sympathy 
and prayers.” 

“ Have you, indeed, prayed for me, Alice? ” 

“ Every day since you went to Excelsior — and even 
before. 1 believe the Lord has answered my prayers, 
too,” she said, very assuringly. 

“ O, Alice, what a treasure I have won!” he 
exclaimed. 

“ Don’t be too certain about that ; but I shall always 


WOOING AND WINNING. 


201 


count it my highest privilege to share in your work. I 
want to adore your eloquence and to pray for you without 
ceasing.” 

“ But how can 1 ever reward you, Alice. Such devo- 
tion as yours demands a much greater return than I can 
hope to give you ! ” 

“I only ask your kindness and your love, and” — 
assuming her most cheering and encouraging tone — “ you 
will always be such a noble and eloquent preacher! ” 

“I could not help striving to do the best work of 
which I am capable, with such a dear little woman always 
near me,” he responded, with a fond caress. 

After talking over many points of interest in connec- 
tion with his professional duties, he arose to depart, inform- 
ing her that he should take the early train for Excelsior in 
the morning. 

They lingered but a few moments in the hall for words 
and signs of parting — of what fine ethereal substance 
seemed her hand as he measured her finger for the ring 
she was to wear ! — was there another sacred kiss as they 
separated ? 

Elwood’s heart beat high as the train steamed out of 
the village in the morning; but he was no happier than 
Alice. 

What maiden does not rejoice to be wooed and won 
by the man she adores ? 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


WORK AND WORRY. 

“Vernon, I am seriously afraid if these doubts con- 
cerning the Confession of P'aith continue much longer, I 
shall have to come to you for some remedy from materia 
medica. They are taking hold of my nerves and tissues, 
as well as my mental and spiritual consciousness.” 

It was thus that Henry Elwood addressed his friend 
Vernon, in the latter’s office, at a late hour one Saturday 
night, a few weeks after Elwood’s return from Beulah. 
[He had spent several hours that day considering the 
question how it could be just to punish an innocent per- 
son for the sins of the guilty ; and his sermon for the next 
day was not yet completed.] 

“ I know what course I would have thought necessary 
some years ago,” was Vernon’s reply, spoken so sadly, 
that Elwood regretted introducing the subject. 

There was silence between them for some minutes, 
and then Vernon continued, in a less heavy tone: “I 
really wish I could help you out of your difficulty ; but I 
know of no way to escape the disease — if I may call it 
such — under which you are suffering, so long as you are 
an honest man ! ” 

“I would like to call myself honest, Vernon; but if 
my people knew all my doubts, wouldn’t they lose all 
confidence in me and ask me to resign before I preach 
another sermon ! ” 

“And suppose you would retire from the ministry. 


WORK AND WORRY. 


203 


what business or profession would you expect to find in 
which you would not meet the same or similar difficulties ? 
It would not be medicine — but I have already given you 
my professional experience and need not repeat it. It 
would not be the law, I am equally certain ; and I guess 
it is the same in every business or occupation of life.” ' 

“You remind me,” said Elwood, “of what I read 
in Carlyle some time ago, where he says that the truly 
sincere man must not be conscious of his sincerity, but 
rather of /^sincerity. I never thought, however, of mak- 
ing a personal application of the remark, as I supposed it 
referred only to the ‘ heroes ’ of whom he was discours- 
ing.” 

“ I have read too little of Carlyle,” said Vernon, “to 
be an interpreter of his meaning ; but there seems to be 
something in his remark that applies to both your case 
and mine — and that too without our pretending to be 
‘ heroes,’ or anything of the sort.” 

“I don’t want to ‘consider myself a ‘ hero,’ ” said 
Elwood, ; but I would like above all things else to be an 
honest and sincere man ; and surely no man is justified in 
being insincere — e.specially in the pulpit.” 

Vernon made no reply to this, but presently asked: 
“Did you see Clara Martin while you were in Beulah?” 

“ No, I did not, Vernon,” was the reply, spoken 
very regretfully, “and I must confess that I even forgot 
to inquire about her.” 

“For which failure you are surely to be excused, in 
view of the peculiar circumstances, and especially in view 
of the fact that I sent no message of inquiry ; but, 
Elwood, you have not yet told me when you and Miss 
Carroll are to be married.” 

“ No time has been set yet; but I know she would 
prefer to wait a year or two.” 

“ Since you have signified some desire to have me 


204 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


prescribe for you, let me say that your case has reached a 
somewhat critical stage, and that you need a woman’s wit 
and wisdom and sympathy more than everything else” — 
Elwood knew not how much of his own inner conscious- 
ness Vernon was revealing — “and if Miss Carroll’s whole 
soul is devoted to your work, she might be able to relieve 
your mind of these doubts, at least relieve you of the 
worry and anxiety that now trouble you so seriously — 
much more seriously than you suppose. You can do a 
vast amount of work, Elwood, but beware of worry — and 
loneliness. I will give you a ‘ physician’s certificate,’ if 
you desire it, that you need her presence and sympathy. 
But she will take your word for it ; women are always 
ready to go where they are needed and called — and what 
nurses they are for sick minds as well as sick bodies ! Do 
not understand me, however, to pronounce you a chronic 
invalid. I only fear — I know — that it will be very hard 
for you to discharge all your duties and solve all the prob- 
lems before you alone. 

“ And it will also be very hard for me to preach two 
sermons to-morrow unless I get some sleep to night,” said 
Elwood, a little playfully, as he rose to take his leave ; 
“but your prescription is worth considering, Vernon, and 
I am very grateful for it.” 


Two or three months after the above conversation, 
Elwood received by the same mail a letter from his 
mother, and one from his betrothed, both of which are 
herewith presented to the reader, his mother’s first ; 

Arcadia, September — , 1880. 

My Dear Henry: 

I am much interested in every thing you write concerning 
Excelsior and the people of your church. What a task is laid 
upon you in keeping up an acquaintance with so many persons 
and preaching to them twice every Sunday. 

I wish very much that I could help you dispose of your theo- 


WORK AND WORRY. 


205 


logical doubts ; but never having had any such experience myself^ 
I can only again commend you to the Spirit of all Truth. It seems 
to me that your difficulty in understanding such doctrines as 
the Atonement and the Trinity ought not to interfere in any man- 
ner with your preaching the Gospel to the people and serving 
them as a true and faithful minister. You have noticed, haven’t 
you? that Jesus never troubled himself about doctrines, but went 
about doing good and teaching the people ; and that is what I have 
no doubt you are are striving to do and will continue to do. 

How fortunate you Avere, Henry, in securing Miss Carroll’s 
promise to marry you. Although I have never met her, I almost 
feel as if I Avere well acquainted Avith her ; for, in addition to all 
you have told me about her, she has written to me two or three 
times, stating that you had requested her to do so. 

Her letters to me are very interesting and charming, and as 
full of tenderness and affection as I can expect. And such inter- 
est as she manifests in your ministry ! such an appreciation of 
your talents ! 1 have always felt anxious for you to secure a wife 

who would be highly devoted to you and your work, but 1 never 
dreamed of such interest and devotion as she manifests. 

Mr. Edwards says he still has confidence that you Avill master 
your theological doubts Avithout falling into error and unbelief. I 
believe you Avill do so, too ; but I can see from the tone of your let- 
ters that they are troubling you more than you are willing to 
acknowledge, perhaps more than you yourself think; and, as there 
is no one in Excelsior to whom you can fully express your thoughts 
and feelings, I am afraid your trouble on this account will inter- 
fere Avith your ministerial Avork, if it does not injure your health. 

You say that you are not expecting to marry for a year or 
two ; but I believe that if your Alice understood that you needed 
her presence— and thatisAvhat you do need, Henry — she Avould not 
refuse to be married sooner. I give you this suggestion because 
your letters indicate that you are considerably troubled, and I know 
she Avould do anything you might ask to help and relieve you. 

From Your Affectionate Mother, 

Emma Elavood. 

And likewise this from Alice : 

Rki'i.aii, September — , 1880. 

My Dear Henry: 

The habit of Avriting to you on Sunday afternoons having^ 
once been formed, Avill probably be continued for a long time to- 
come, unless some monitor appeals to my conscience and bids me 
desist — you Avill not be that monitor, will you ? 


"206 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


1 have never written to you how dear Mrs. Goodway over- 
whelmed me with caresses and congratulations as soon as she 
found out that our engagement was a certain thing, which was 
■only a short time ago.' Tne Doctor, too, grasped both my hands 
and shook them warmly, and seemed almost inclined to salute me 
with a holy kiss — that is what Mrs. Goodway does every time she 
meets me. 

And if you were their own son, Henry, they could hardly 
admire you more than they do, or feel a greater interest in your 
ministry. 

I believe I have written to you before that Mr. Allison was 
paying considerable attention to Blanche .Jordan. You could have 
no idea what an etfect it has had on her conversational powers. 
She always seemed deficient in that respect, but her association 
with Mr. Allison has brought out a latent faculty that I never 
thought she possessed in such a large measure. I suppose the 
burden of care, that used to be on her mind, kept down her spirits 
and made her seem less “ witty and wise” than she reallj'^ was. I 
think, too, that Mr. Allison appreciates the almost magical effect 
his conversation has had upon her, and that he enjoys her society 
much more than he would be willing to confess — but perhaps he 
has written all this and much more to you ! 

And Blanche — but I am not going to tell you how far she has 
■confided in me. You w'on’t blame her for doing so; and I am 
equally certain that you won’t blame me for letting her know how 
proud I am to wear your ring — symuoi. ok etpuinity! — upon my 
hand, and how I cherish your name in my heart of hearts ! 

How grateful 1 felt to you, Henry, for making no formal 
avowal of your love to me before I was ready to reciprocate your 
feelings and give you the answer you desired. I never wanted to 
“ say you nay; ” neither did 1 want to say “ yes” until I felt cei*- 
tain that we were indeed “ two souls moved by a single thought, 
and two hearts that beat as one; ” although I believe we were each 
conscious of some affinity for the other from the day of our first 
meeting ! 

If you waited longer than was entirely agreeable to you, I will 
try to compensate you by greater love and devotion as long as we 
live— you believe in the “ law of compensation,” don’t you? Per- 
haps I did not wish to wait any longer, either! At any rate, I 
was ready for your proposal when it came. The time, the place, 
the manner and the man were all acceptable ; and you could not 
possibly have interpreted my wishes and feelings more clearly than 
you did. Was my ansiver all that you desired, or shall I say more 
when we meet again? 


WORK AND WORRY. 


207 


It is not very easy for me to answer your question whether 
you should write your sermons or preach extempore. I have heard 
you preach in both ways, and I can only say, m the language of 
John Gay, 

“ IIow happy could I he with either. 

Were ■ tother dear charmer away.” 


Wouldn’t it be well for you to give your congregation the 
advantage of both methods in about equal measure? — I know you 
are equal to both ! 

Clara Martin’s father is preaching at the village of Rostonia, 
which is about fifty miles from Excelsior. I have greatly missed 
her, but I hear from her quite often. Her last letter stated that 
her father’s health was very poor, and that he expected to retire 
from active work in the ministry in a year or two, and that if he 
did so, he would probably move to Excelsior and spend the rest of 
his days in that city. Clara has never fully recovered from the 
ett'ects of her estrangement from Homer Vernon, and nothing will 
ever satisfy her except to take an active part in some reformatory 
or benevolent work. I shall be very glad to find her in Excelsior 
when the time conies to make the city my home, and perhaps she 
and Hr. Vernon might yet — but I won’t pretend to prophesy about 
that ! 

1 am attending church very regularly ; but highly as I admire 
our Episcopal liturgy, especially as rendered by Mr. Allison, I 
shall not be unwilling to change my connection" to a church where 
the preaching is more prominent — I mean your preaching, Henry! 

I can not quite understand how you expect me to assist you in 
.•solving those hard theological problems that trouble you so. I 
have no “ excellent spirit,” like the prophet Daniel, for the “inter- 
preting of dreams and showing of hard sentences and dissolving of 
doubts;” neither must you expect me to ” reason high of fate, 
foreknowledge and free will but my heart and soul are all in your 
ministry, and I would ask no higher honor than to share in all 
your burdens and trials. 

Are you not greatly worrying as well as working, Henry? I do 
not want to see any of your gifts and powers wasted in this way 
when they should all be used in grand and noble work— and would 
not your people say this, too ? 

I would prefer not to marry for some time yet ; but knowing, 
as 1 do, what a task is upon your shoulders, I can not refuse what- 
ever you ask ; and if you continue to feel, as you say you now 
feel, the need of my presence and sympathy, you will find me 
Your Ever Atfectionate and Devoted Ai.ice. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


MARRIED AND MATED. 

On Christmas day, 1880, in the presence of a large 
circle of admiring friends, Herbert Allison — Doctor Good- 
way participating in the ceremony — solemnly pronounced 
Henry Ehvood and Alice Carroll husband and wife. 

Their “bridal tour” embraced a trip to New York 
and other eastern cities, and also a journey to Arcadia, 
where they spent a week visiting Henry’s mother and 
calling upon old friends and acquaintances. 

What intense pleasure Alice felt in wandering over 
the fields and hills and woods, that had been marked by 
the steps of his boyhood, and how he delighted to recount 
to her the various experiences of his early years. 

They were in New York over Sunday; and, as natur- 
ally as the needle is drawn by the magnet, they crossed 
East river at an early hour, and made their way to Plym- 
outh church. This time they sat in the same pew, and 
with eyes a little closer together than they realized. 
Elwood’s appreciation of Mr. Beecher’s discourse was very 
high ; but Alice’s power of penetration and interpretation 
surprised him beyond all previous experience, and lifted 
him to the seventh heaven of delight. 

“ Henry,” she said to him, as they sat in their room 
at the hotel in the afternoon, “can you tell Mr. Beecher’s 
‘ secret? ’ ” 

“No, 1 can not, ” he answered, with enthusiasm; 
“it is like the flavor of an apple or the fragrance of a 


209 


MAllKIED AND MATED. 

flower; it defies all analysis or definition — how I wish I 
could preach as he does ! ” 

“ No, no, Henry,” she said, laying her hand on his 
forehead, and looking very admiringly into his face; “ do 
not covet Mr. Beecher’s gifts, but use yout own ! If you 
fully consecrate yourself, you do not know what great 
work the Lord may enable you to do. You will find at 
least one person who would rather hear you preach than 
even Mr. Beecher ! ” 

Did any theological doubts oppress his consciousness 
at that moment.? 

In the afternoon, they visited the Mission Sunday 
School, of which Elwood had charge while in the Semi- 
nary. Their walk to the place gave Alice her first actual 
view of the poverty and degradation of a great city. 

“ Is there any thing like this in Excelsior? ” she in- 
quired, as they noted the many signs of suffering and des- 
titution on the street. 

“ Not quite so extensive, not quite so bad, but very 
much like it,” 

“ How long do you think it will be before the poor 
shall indeed have the Gospel preached to them. Henry? ” 

“ That question has perplexed me a great deal, Alice, 
but I have never been able to answer it.” 

“It is a more serious question than even your theo- 
logical doubts, isn’t it?” she asked, very sympathetically. 

“ Perhaps it is, Alice ; but they are very oppressive ; 
and if it were not for you, I would not know how to en- 
dure them.” 

“ ‘ P'or the trial of your faith worketh patience,’ 
Henry ! ” she responded, with her brightest look. 

There was no small degree of curiosity on the part of 
the congregation the Sunday after they returned to Excel- 
sior to see the minister’s bride. 

She walked up the aisle to her pew by her husband’s 


210 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


side, with easy and graceful carriage, perfectly natural and 
free from affectation of every sort. Her dress was quite 
becoming, but betokened no desire for show, her hair be- 
ing smoothly combed, and thereby most truly adorning 
her bright and elegant forehead. Her face wore its usual 
open and pleasing aspect, and she showed no sign of trep- 
idation or embarrassment in view of all the eyes that were 
directed toward her — and yet no affectation of indiffer- 
ence. She might, or might not, be called beautiful, accord- 
ing to the taste and standard of the beholder; but she 
assumed no beauty or charm that she did not pos.sess; and 
the brightness of her eyes and the glow of her cheeks re- 
vealed healthy digestion, full breathing, and a merry heart 
amid all the experiences of life. 

As they sat in their rooms in the afternoon — they were 
boarding at the hotel, having made no arrangements for 
housekeeping — Elwood said: “Alice, Herbert Allison 
told me once that you had given him a very valuable sug- 
gestion in reference to .special study of the Episcopal 
service before rendering it each Sunday — would it not 
apply to my formal services as well ? ” 

“ Indeed, Henry, you read your hymns and Scrip- 
tural lesson in a very acceptable manner to-day.” 

“But could not my reading have been very much 
improved ? ” 

“I will not assume the ungracious office of critic the 
first Sunday of my residence in your ‘ parish,’ even if you 
do request it — but have you selected your hymns and 
Scriptural les.son for to-night? ” 

“ I have,” he replied, taking his Bible and hymn book 
in his hands. “I am going to read the first chapter of 
Genesis, and my first hymn is an old and familiar one, 

‘ When I survey the wondrous cross.’ ” 

“ Can you not make them new and fresh by studying 


MAllRIED AND MATED. 


211 


them before the service and thereby prepare your audience 
for the sermon ? ” 

He opened the Bible and read aloud the first three 
verses of Genesis : 

“ In the beginning God created the heavens and the 
‘ earth. 

“ And the earth was without form and void, and 
‘ darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the 
‘ Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters. 

“ And God said, Let there be light; and there was 
‘ light ! ” 

He paused at this point and looked into her face, 
inquiringly. 

“ Read the same verses in a still lower tone,” she 
quietly suggested. 

He began again and read the entire chapter without 
farther comment, his conception of every passage being 
greatly quickened by her fine appreciation. 

“How much beauty and sublimity there is in this 
chapter ! ” he exclaimed, as soon as he had concluded. 

“ Whether it be history or poetry,” she quickly re- 
sponded; “ and I believe you can read it so it will inspire 
the people, and then they will know it is inspired by the 
Spirit of God. You can read it so they will feel that God 
always creates the heavens and the earth, for those who 
fear him and love him — that his Spirit always moves on 
the face of the waters, for those who desire the Spirit’s 
work and influence —and that he always says, ‘ Let there 
be light,’ for those who seek the light ! ” 

Handing her the open hymn-book, he asked her to 
read the hymn, but, instead of reading it, she sang in a 
low, rich tone: 

“ When I survey the wondrous cross, 

On which the Prince of glory died. 

My richest gain I count but loss, 

And pour contempt on all niy pride. 


212 


HENKY ELWOOI). 


"‘I have read that hymn a great many times, Alice, 
but you have given me a new conception, not only of its 
sublime poetry, but of the lesson of humility and self-sac- 
rifice it teaches.” 

“ What a beautiful hymn that was you read to night 
about the ‘wondrous cross,’ and how grateful we ought 
to feel to Jesus for all he has suffered in our behalf,” said 
a lame and feeble woman of sixty years, whose life had 
been one of hard toil from her earliest childhood, to 
Elwood, as she came forward to shake hands with him 
after the benediction. 

And Gibbert, the tailor, also met him at the church 
door, with the remark: “ I never thought that fable about 
the creation of the world was so interesting — perhaps those 
old Bible stories mean something, after all ! ” 

These were among the expressions of appreciation of 
the services that he heard before he left the church. 

As soon as they reached their rooms. Major Collins 
and Mr. Harris — the latter of whom, it will be remem- 
bered was elected an elder of the church during Arthur 
Raymond’s pastorate — knocked at the door, but declined 
to come in, stating that they had merely called to request 
Mr. Elwood not to purchase or rent a house at present, as 
the Trustees were considering the propriety of securing 
a parsonage. 

“The only question in our minds,” said Collins, with 
his usual overflow of heartiness, “is, whether it would be 
better to put up a new building, or purchase one near the 
church that is offered at a reasonable price. We will con- 
sult you and Mrs. Elwood about it, and decide in a very 
few days.” 

Soon after Collins and Harris took their departure, 
Alice asked: “ Henry, is the Mr. Simpkinson, to whom, 
with his wife, you introduced me to-day, the man you 


MARRIED AND MATED. 


213 


have told me owns so many buildings in the part of the 
city they call ‘ Egypt? ’ ” 

“Yes, Alice, and because he is one of the elders of 
my church, I have been very much perplexed concerning 
my duty in reference to him. He certainly ought to know 
what the people say about the way he treats his tenants, 
but I have never seen my way clear to tell him.” 

“ It would be very easy for you to offend him, with- 
out doing his tenants any good,” she answered, very 
thoughtfully ; “but your duty will some time be made clear 
to you, and perhaps you can make him see wherein he is 
wrong, and thereby be of some service both to his tenants 
and himself. His wife seems such a meek and kind-hearted 
woman— I don’t believe she would want to obtain riches 
by oppressing the poor.” 

The next morning Elwood received the following let- 
ter from his mother: 


Arcadia, .January — , 1881. 

Mv Dkak Hkxiiy: 

I wish I liad tune to write to you the many words of praise 1 
have lioard for your precious Alice from those who saw her while 
you were here during the holidays. 

Mr. Edwards says that anything had been needed to secure 
the success of your ministry in Excelsior, it was a union with such 
a charming and excellent woman, and that you can never depart 
from the right path in your preaching while she is at your side ! 

And such a daughter as / have gained ! High as my expecta- 
tions were, they were more than realized. What a rare gift she has 
of continually surprising every one with her vivacity of manner and 
clearness of expression. And how (piicklv she takes hold of one’s 
atfection! The very first day 1 spent with her, I think I became as 
much attached to her as if 1 had known her all my life! 

.\nd o, Henry, such devotion to you and your work as she 
manif(^sted ! You may think you appreciate her sympathy and 
helpfulness; but you have only begun to do so, at best. 

But need I remind you, that if you would realize the full bless- 
edness of the mari’iage relation, the wife as well as the maiden 
must be respected — that your spirit and manner towards her should 
always be most thoughtful, gentle and considerate— that your man- 


214 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


liness and self-discipline should never fail you — that you should 
prize her fine insight above all earthly treasures — and that you 
should bind her love and sympathy as a chain of gold about your 
neck continually ? 

There will be no sacrifice of manly dignity in all this; on the 
contrary, she will reward you wth an ever-increasing devotion, 
and with constant surprises of “ sweetness and light ! ” 

From Your Affectionate Mother, 

Emma Euwood. 


chaptp:r XXXIII. 


TENANTS AND TENEMENTS. 

At twelve o’clock one night about the middle of Jan- 
uary, there was a loud ringing of fire-bells throughout the 
city of Excelsior ; and the newspaper which was brought 
to Elwood’s door the next morning, announced, under 
flaming head-lines, that there had been a great conflagra- 
tion in “ P^gypt, ” attended with the loss of several lives 
and a number of remarkable escapes from the devouring 
flames. 

Whatever “ loss of life” may have occurred in that 
locality irom sickness or cold or partial starvation for sev- 
eral years past, it had received little or no attention from the 
news gatherers, because things of that kind were sp usual ; 
but when the horrors of death by fire were brought to the 
eyes and ears of the enterprising reporters, they rightly 
judged that they had an “item,” which people would 
want to read in as highly colored style as it was possible 
to employ in presenting it. 

Two or three columns of the paper were taken up 
with an account of the fire, describing its progress from 
building to building, the heroic eflbrts of the firemen to 
extinguish it, with numerous incidents more or less excit- 
ing. The manner in which the five victims of the fire — one 
man, two women and two children — were blinded and 
crazed by the smoke was pictured very graphically ; and 
their shrieks In the midst of the flames that surrounded 
them were truthfully described as “thrilling and heart- 
rending.” 


21G 


HEiXKY ELWOOJ). 


And at the end of the account was this statement : 
• ‘ The legal authorities are taking steps to investigate the 
construction of these buildings with a view to ascertain 
whether there has been an)- violation of the law providing 
for fire escapes in tenement houses of more than two 
stories in height. It is to be hoped that if the owner of 
these building is responsible for the loss of these lives, he 
will not escape the punishment that the law provides.” 

Elwood read the article to Alice, and as soon as he 
had concluded she said to him : 

“ Deacon Simpkinson will be seriously troubled about 
this publication, Henry, whether he has violated the law 
or not, and he will no doubt want your counsel before he 
is through with it. This may be the time for you to tell 
him what you think his duty is in reference to his ten- 
ants.” 

Elwood had an errand at Gibbert’s store soon after 
breakfast, and found the latter’s face unusually animated. 
The paper containing the account of the fire laid on the 
table, and handing it to Elwood, he said in his pecu- 
liarly expressive manner : “ One of your rich deacons has 
got himself into trouble. Shouldn’t wonder if he would 
have a chance to work a little for the public as well as 
compel so many other people to work to make him rich.” 

“ 1 have seen the article,” quietly remarked Elwood, 
“ and have been deeply pained to learn of the loss of life, 
and besides, I fear several families have been turned out of 
doors ! ” 

“ Devilish little old Simpkinson will care for the fam- 
ilies being turned out of doors or for the five people 
burned to death, either — unless he is afraid of the law, I 
hope it will cost him a few thousands of what he has made 
out of other people’s labor to get out of the scrape, any- 
how ! ” 

“You don’t mean to say that Mr. Simpkinson has 


TENANTS AND TENEMENTS. 217 

made his money dishonestly?” asked Idwood, rather ner- 
vously. 

“ How the d — 1 can any man make a million dollars 
— that’s what they say Simpkinson is worth — without tak- 
ing it nearly all from other people? He may not have 
robbed any body, but he’s got more than his .^hare several 
times over ; and when you see one man as rich as he is, 
the Lord only knows how many have to be poor on his 
account.” 

‘ ‘ You say you do not know any one that he has ever 
robbed; how, then, do you claim that so many others are 
poor on his account ? ” 

“ How much of his money did he ever earn ^ — that’s 
what I would like to know ; and since he never earned 
more than a very small portion of it, doesn’t it follow that 
all the rest of it was earned by other, people ? and hasn’t 
he got what justly belongs to the men who earned it? 
But I suppose ignorance and superstition will always rule 
the world, and that the more money the rich man can coin 
out of the sweat of the poor, the lower they will bow to 
him ! ” 

< “ But, Gibbert, are you certain that even if an equal 

distribution of goods could be secured and niaintained, 
such a condition would be desirable? If no man could 
obtain more than what you call his ‘share,’ would there 
not be an end to all enterprise and all progress ? — almost 
an end to all wealth ? Is it not better for the good of all, 
that there should be rr.ore or less concentration of wealth 
in the hands of men who know’ how to manage it? ” 

“ That is a very comfortable argument for one w'ho is 
drawing a fat salary for his work,” replied Gibbert ; “ but I 
guess if you were one of the poor wretches living down in 
‘Egypt,’ you couldn’t see how’ it was any advantage 
to you that Deacon Simpkinson owned so much prop- 
erty, while you would never know where the next meal 


•218 


HKNKY ELW( )()!>. 


was coming from, nor how soon you might be turned 
out in the street?” 

“All that doesn’t prove,” replied Elwood, “that 
there are not some advantages to be derived from the con- 
centration of wealth ; but what I do wish is that all men 
who own property, whether it be in large or small 
amounts, would consider themselves as stewards of what 
they possess and strive to use it for the good of others.” 

“ You’ll never get Deacon Simpkinson to do anything 
of that kind,” replied Gibbert ; “he ‘wants the earth,’ 
and he wants it all for himself! ” 

“But, Gibbert, whatever spirit Deacon Simpkinson 
may manifest in reference to his property, we ought to re- 
member the Scripture which sa\ s, ‘ A man’s life consisteth 
not in the abundance of the things that he possesseth.’ 
Your life and mine may be made just as v'^aluable and just 
as noble as if we were possessed of as much property as 
Mr. Simpkinson.” 

“ I wouldn’t be as close and mean as he is for all he’s 
worth, anyhow!” replied Gibbert, very incisively. 

Six months afterward hdwood wrote to his mother : 

K.xi'klsidk, July — , 1881. 

My Deah Motiiei! : 

Alice has been reininding me for some days past that your last 
letter remains unanswered, which neglect must continue no longer. 

If there were no otlier difticulty concerning theological ques- 
tions than my inability to understand the doctrines of the church, 
I could easily bring my mind to a state of rest and peace; but niy 
case is one of serious doubt, if not of disbelief. It is, at best, very 
hard for me to believe that Christ suhered the wrath of God for 
our sins; and that there is one (Jod composed of three separate 
persons; and, at times, I find myself considering the question 
whether we are bound to believe every thing in the Bible merely 
because it is written there. 

Alice tells me nearly every day that my efforts to solve these 
doubts are making a much better preacher of me. and that I 
should not be unwilling to have my conscience exercised in this 


TENANTS AND TENEMENTS. 


219 


way, as it needs exercise as well as my mind or my body. She also 
insists that the large congregations I have, and the increase in the 
church membership, are at least proofs that the people do not ac- 
count me an untrue or an unfaithful minister, and that I will not 
be condemned, if I continue to seek the right course. 

I have derived great benefit from Kobertson’s principle that all 
truth should be presented in a positive, rather than a negative 
form. I always seek to preach just wdiat I do believe to the people; 
but I fear 1 do not deserve the credit for earnestness and sincerity 
that they give me. 

I believe I have never written to you about Major Collins, who 
is one of the leading members of my cburch. Alice and I have 
dined at his house once or twice, and his friendship and generosity 
to me seem to know no bounds. Mrs. Collins is very precise and 
formal in her manners; but she and all her family are very much 
attached to Alice. Their oldest boy, Fred, belongs to her Sunday 
School class; and they have two very bright twin girls, about four 
years old, who love her, I was going to say, more than they love 
their mother. They are never so happy as when they are brought 
to our rooms, where they will frequently stay all day with perfect 
conUmtment. 

I must also write to you with reference to Deacon Simpkinson, 
who, as I have told you before, owns so many houses in the part of 
Excelsior that the}' call “ Egypt.” When the fire occurred last 
winter, in which five persons were burned to death, the authorities 
were strongly inclined to prosecute him for not providing fire es- 
capes in the buildings that had been burned; but when the Prose- 
cutor investigated the w'hole matter, he came to the conclusion 
that no case could be made against him in law, however much he 
may have been to blame morally. 

He came to me for advice at the very outset, being in great 
distress on account of the criticisms of the newspapers and of the 
public, and pleading that such matters were an “ annoyance ” that 
he could hardly endure. And he seemed to expect me to relieve 
him of this because 1 was his pastor? It w'as not very easy forme 
to determine just what I ought to say to him; but, fortunately, 
Alice was present at several of our interviews, aud, in some way, 
she assisted me to put the matter before him in such a light, 
that he was induced to contribute quite liberally to the relief of 
the families who had been burned out, and also to give some con- 
sideration to the question of his obligations to his other tenants. 

What a rare faculty Alice has of always helping people to .w 
what is right ! 

.\fterward, when I found I had his full confidence, I suggested 


•220 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


a number of ways in which I thought lie could make his other ten- 
ants more comfortable. He objected, at first, to all repairs and 
improvements, on account of high taxes and the carelessness of 
tenants; but 1 gradually acquired such an influence over him 
that he would do almost anything I suggested, and would 
even come to me occasionally for advice as to what I thought he 
ought to do for the comfort and convenience of some of his ten- 
ants. He would also ask Vernon’s medical advice about ventila- 
tion, drainage and other points relating to the healthy condition of 
his buildings. 

Of course, he has not done all that 1 think he ought to do for 
his tenants; but he has made a good many of them more comfort- 
able than they were, and I believe he will do still mors in that 
direction. We all need time to learn the lessons of life, and a 
minister must be careful not to lose patience with his people be- 
cause they learn their duty so slowly. 

1 am giving considerable time to such authors as Herbert 
Spencer, Darwin, Huxley, Renan and others, not neglecting my 
biblical and theological studies. Alice has given me great encour- 
agement in this respect, insisting that I could not possibly be 
equipped for my work without being “ up ” in all the literature 
and philosophy of the day. 

In connection with my studies, rather as a necessary part of 
them, 1 have taken frequent drives and walks into the country, 
sometimes with Alice and sometimes alone, and have spent many 
profitable hours in quiet converse with our dear Mother Nature. 
And O, how clearly she speaks to me of the wisdom and mercy 
and goodness of God ! How i*piritaal she is when we become 
truly acquainted with her ! 

I wish I could tell you how much the people of Excelsior think 
of Alice. Her presence is welcomed alike by the rich and the 
poor ; and I do not believe that any one has ever noticed the 
slightest difference in the courtesy and attention that she shows to 
all classes of people. And, whatever differences and divisions 
there may be among them, they are united in their love and 
admiration of her. Scarcely a day passes that some of my mem- 
bers do not speak a word of praise concerning her in my ears : 
but none of them know her worth as I do ! 

Our new parsonage will be completed in a few weeks, and then 
we shall expect a very long visit from our mother. 

From Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Ei.vvoou. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


PRAYER AND PROVIDENCE. 

The bullet of a crazy a.ssassin had struck down the 
President of the United States; and, after several weeks of 
wasting and suffering, his life had gone out, despite all the 
prayers that had been offered in his behalf. 

It can not be said that Henry Pdwood’s faith was 
.severely “shocked” by this event, this seeming mock- 
ery of the promises of the Scripture ; for he had expressed 
the opinion some time before the lamented President’s 
death, that if he were mortally wounded, the prayers of 
the nation would not save his life ; but he was considerably 
perplexed as to the interpretation of the mysterious provi- 
dence that he should offer to his people the following 
Sunday. 

“ Why should you expect fully to understand this 
mystery when you can not comprehend the life of the low- 
est animal or the essence of a single blade of grass ? ” asked 
Alice, as she gently caressed his brow. 

“ But, Alice, the people will expect me to preach 
upon it, and I feel that I ought to give them some mes- 
sage. ” 

After a few moments’ silence, she quietly answered r 
“ Henry, I will give you a text for the occasion, if you 
will promise to preach from ft.” 

“ I am very safe in promising anything you ask, my 
dear Alice.” 

‘ ‘ She opened the Bible that was lying on the table 


HEXKY ELAVOOD. 


:>-22 

aiear them, and read: “ When ye pray say, Our Father.” 

As she spoke the words with a full cadence of voice, 
he looked at her inquiringly, expecting to hear the 
remainder of the Lord’s prayer, or at least a portion of it ; 
but, instead of giving him this, she closed the book and 
returned it to the table. 

‘ ‘ Is that all, Alice ? ” 

“That is enough for one sermon, isn’t it?” she 
answered, very brightly. “ This text will require as much 
«tudy and preparation as any that you ever preached from. 
The people expect a message from you, and you ought to 
give them a message both of comfort and inspiration.” 

“Can you give me any ideas and suggestions upon 
this text, Alice ? ” 

“I have given you the text ; you must furnish the 
■sermon yourself,” she answered, with a very encouraging 
smile. 

In the afternoon, as Elwood was passing by Gibbert’s 
store, he heard the latter say, in the hearing of two or 
three men who were standing by the door : “I should 
think this death of Garfield would show people the folly 
and superstition of praying. Why, there were enough 
prayers offered for him to have saved a million lives, if 
prayer could have any effect. It’s confounded strange 
people can not learn to mind their own business, and let 
the Almighty — if there is any such person — alone ! ” 

“ I believe in prayer,” said one of the men, “even if 
it wasn’t the Lord’s will for Mr. Garfield to get well. The 
Bible is full of promises to all who pray in faith, and I 
1 have always found them to be true.” 

“ But all your faith and all your prayers won’t give 
bread to a man that is hungry, or fire to one that is freez- 
ing,” replied Gibbert, very emphatically. “ If we could get 
what we want by praying,' what would be the use of our 
^vorking so infernal hard fora living? Why does your 


PRAYER AND PROVIDENCE. 


223 


'God permit so much pain and misery in the world, if he 
IS read)' to answer people’s prayers for whatever they 
wish ? ” 

“ He doesn’t give us whatever we wish,” responded 
the same man : “he gives us the things that are according 
to his will, not ours.” 

“Then what is the use of your bothering him about 
it at all ? Besides if he is as good as you say he is, he has 
a very peculiar way of showing it to some of his creatures.” 

Can Henry Elwood listen to such utterances as these 
without losing faith in the Eternal Providence that it is his 
office and business to preach to men ? 

Has he yet learned that the light-house by the sea- 
shore must be built so strong that it will stand against all 
the waves that may beat against it? 

C In the evening, Elwood had a call from Professor 
Humboldt, of the State University located at Excelsior. 
The Professor was an attendant at the First church, 
although not a communicant ; and being a man of very 
clever conversational powers, he not unfrequently -spent 
an evening with Elwood and Alice, on which occasions a 
considerable variety of topics was considered and dis- 
cussed. His fortc\ however, was physical science, in 
which he w’as thoroughly versed. He believed in the 
“laws of Nature, ” the “correlation of forces,” the “sur- 
vival of the fittest,” and so on ; but, although he respected 
Christianity as an institution, he could see nothing “scien- 
tific” in either its doctrines or its services.T” 

He appreciated the dead President’s genius and char- 
acter and sincerely regretted his death, but still he could 
not help feeling that the failure to save his life by prayer 
was in the nature of a triumph of “ science” over “ super- 
stition,” and, in the course of the evening’s conversation, 
expressed himself somewhat to that effect. 

“Why, Professor, you don’t think there was any 


224 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


thing unscientific in the prayers of the people for Mr. Gar- 
field’s recovery, do you ? ” asked Alice. 

“I don’t know that I should call them either scien- 
tific or unscientific.” he answered, “ but it is very clear that 
they utterly failed of their object ; and that ought to con- 
vince us that we can accomplish nothing except by acting 
in strict harmony with the laws of Nature. It is astonish- 
ing, however, how much superstition still remains in the 
world, notwithstanding the great progress we have made in 
science and civilization.” 

“The mere fact that these prayers failed of their 
object doesn’t prove that they are born of ‘ superstition,' 
does it?” she next asked. 

. “ Perhaps not; but can it be shown that any prayer 
accomplishes its object — brings about a result that would 
not have been produced without it ? ” 

“ In other words,” she pleasantly responded, “you 
say, ‘Show me a sign from heaven, and I will believe; ’ 
but no sign shall be given unto you — not even the sign 
of the prophet Jonas ! ” 

As the Professor made no immediate reply to this, 
Elwood presently said: “Why is it, Professor, that so 
many scientists and philosophers seem to ignore the reli- 
gious instinct in man ? Is not this instinct as ‘ scientific ' 
a thing — I mean as teal a thing— as any fact or object in 
Nature ? Is it not as real a thing as the law of gravita- 
tion ? ” 

“ There is more or less tendency to acts of religious 
devotion among all claeses of people ; but I believe it is 
born of their fears and their weaknesses ; and the more 
educated and enlightened society becomes, the less there 
is of it. First, we had the age of faith, then of philosophy 
or speculation, and now we are approaching, if we have 
already reached, the age of scientific fact.” 

“ Hut can the mind of man ever be satisfied with mere 


PRAYEU AND PROVIDENCE. 


225 


external phenomena?” asked Elwood. “Is there not 
something in us that makes us strive to comprehend the 
unseen and the invisible? Is it not as natural for us to feel 
that we are related to the Essence — the Soul— of all things, 
M'hich is God, as it is to feel that our bodies are related to 
the earth on which we stand ? ” 

“ But even if that were admitted,” replied the Pro- 
fessor, “ it does not follow that we can accomplish what- 
aver we wish, or set aside the laws of Nature by our 
prayers. ” 

‘ ‘ Can we accomplish whatever we wish by exercising 
function of our nature? ” Alice here inquired. And 
as the Professor made no immediate reply, she soon con- 
tinued : “Must not every force that we exercise bear its 
proper relation to all other forces ? Must not our prayers 
take their proper place in the Divine order and economy? ” 
“ I am ready to admit the efficacy of prayer whenever 
it can be demonstrated,” he answered: “but until that is 
done I can see no use in our attempting to disturb the 
order of the Universe with any of our petitions. We can 
not change the laws of Nature in any respect, or suspend 
their operation for a single moment.” 

In response to this, she asked permission to read an 
extract from “Robertson's Sermons,” to which the Pro- 
fessor and Elwood both listened with intense interest — so 
clear and expressive were the notes of her voice : 

“ Pray then, as Christ did, till your prayer makes you 
“cease praying. Pray till you forget your own wish and 
“leave it or merge it in God’s will. The divine wi.sdom 
“ has given us prayer, not as a means whereby to obtain the 
“ good things of earth, but as a means whereby we learn 
“ to do without them ; not as a means whereby we escape 
“evil, but as a means whereby we become strong to meet 
“it. ‘There appeared unto him an angel from heaven 
“strengthening him.’ That was the reply to Christ’s 


226 


HENKY ELWOOl). 


“prayer. * * Then the selfish cry of egotism being 

“silenced, we obtain Job’s sublime spirit, ‘Shall we 
“receive good at the hands of God, and shall we not 
“ receive evil ? ’ 

“There is one objection that may be made to this, 
“ It may be said, I have lost all 1 prized. It is .sad and 
“depressing to think that prayer will alter nothing and 
“ bring nothing that I wish. 

“ But one word in reply. You have lost the certainty 
“of getting your own wish ; you have gotten instead 
“ the compensation of knowing that the best possible, best 
“ for you, best for all, will be accomplished.” 

As the Professor offered no comments on this, the 
conversation turned to a discussion of the dead Presi- 
dent’s career and character, which was continued for the 
remainder of the evening. | 

On Sunday afternoon, as Elwood and Alice were .sit- 
ting together in one of the city parks, she said to him : 
“ Henry, do you regret the thought and labor you 
expended on the preparation of your sermon this morn- 
ing?” 

“ No, Alice ; the close attention the people gave me, 
and the interest they manifested was a tenfold reward for 
all my labor in preparing the discourse.” 

“ It seemed to me you reached their hearts as never 
before, and while you were reading the opening hymn, 

‘ God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform,’ 
I noticed quite a number wiping the tears from their eyes. 
You read it with such feeling as to make it almost equal 
to a sermon.” 

“ Did I make my views of prayer clear, Alice ? ” 

“ They were certainly very clear tome, and I think 
the audience understood you, too.” And, after a short 
pause, she continued: “ Henry, you have often expressed 
the fear that you were not wholly orthodox upon the sub- 


PRAYElt AND PROA’IDENCE, 


227 


ject of prayer, and have seriously doubted your right to 
occupy a Presbyterian pulpit Avith such views as you have 7 
but to day you stated that because God is our Father, he 
hears all our prayers, and answers them according to hi& 
wisdom and goodness ! ” 

“That is what I believe, Alice; I can come to no 
other conclusion ; we exercise the function that belong to- 
ns as his children — and it is certainly the highest and 
noblest function of our nature — and as he is infinitely wise 
and perfect and good, we can not fail to secure the proper 
result. If wise earthly parents try to give the proper 
answer to their children’s requests, will not our Heavenly 
Father do the same for us ? ” 

“ And didn’t you say, Henry, that when we are in the 
right state of mind toward God, all things that come to 
pa.ss are providential ? ” 

“ Yes. Alice ; and I believe that, too! ” 

“ I thought you made it very clear that prayer con- 
sisted in vital communion with God, rather than in obtain- 
ing any special favor from him, and that, paradoxical as it 
might seem, the efficacy of all our prayers depended on 
our perfect submis.sion to the Divine will.” 

“ That is what I sought to impress upon the people’s 
minds, and upon my own mind also.” 

“Then it seems to me,'' she responded, in a very 
encouraging tone, “that you are more orthodox in your 
views of prayer than orthodoxy itself ; and perhaps you 
will see in due time, that you believe more of the truth 
contained in the Confession of Faith than even Professor 
Ironsides I If you can attain a larger and more spiritual 
view of prayer, wh}- should you not do the same with the 
Trinity, the Atonement, the Inspiration of the Bible, 
and the other doctrines of the Confession ? ” 

“ Alice,” he said, in reply, “ I have also been study- 
ing the doctrine of vicarious sacrifice in connection with 


HENKY ELWOOI). 


'J28 

President Garfield’s death ; and it has brought a great 
many thoughts and suggestions to mind, besides all that 
I expressed in my sermon. Was he not killed because he 
was the President of the people? Was not President Lin- 
coln killed for the same reason ? And did not more than 
three hundred thousand soldiers fall as a sacrifice upon the 
altar of their country during the late war? Whether 
Christ bore the wrath of God for our sins in a legal sense 
or not, it is very certain that his life and his death were 
alike an example of self-sacrifice, and that all men must 
suffer more or less for others.” 

“ And therefore you won’t have to be burned or 
excommunicated for heresy on account of your views of 
the Atonement, especially if you put the spirit of Christ’s 
sacrifice into your preaching and your life,” she 
responded with a bright smile, and after a few moments 
continued: “ I forgot to tell you that I received a letter 
from Clara Martin yesterday while you were out,” stating 
that her father was going to move to Excelsior next spring, 
and also one from Blanche Jordan, in which she says that 
she and Mr. Allison ” 

“Are engaged?” 

“ Don’t be curious, Henry — that the>- often speak 
of us — and so forth ! ” 

“ Do you think they will ever marry, Alice ? ” 

“They certainly will, as Mrs. Goodway used to say 
of a certain other couple, if they will only get well 
acquainted with each other! ” she merrily answered. 

On the New Year’s day following, El wood had the 
pleasure of writing to his mother and to Alice’s father, that 
the angel of life had visited their parsonage home, and left 
them a baby boy, “with face and eyes just like his 
mother’s ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


AFFECTION AND AFFLICTION. 

It was the midsummer following the birth of little 
Carl Elwood ; and, as his father and mother were enjoying 
his smiling and cooing one evening just before sunset, the 
door bell rang, with a peculiarly sharp sound, which they 
both recognized by looking at each other for a moment, 
very intently. Elwood went to the door, and found there 
his friend. Major Collins, with great anxiety on his face, 
and a marked huskiness in his voice. 

He grasped Elwood’s hand very tightly, and respon- 
ded to the invitation to come in by saying, as he entered 
the house ; “I called to see you and your wife for only a 
minute. Lulu and Lucy are both sick v/ith the bloody 
flux, and Dr. Vernon says their ca.ses are very serious — 
they both want to see Mrs. Elwood.” 

Alice’s care of her own baby had not interfered in any 
manner with the manifestation of her affection for the Col- 
lins twins ; in fact, her love for them had been greatly 
intensified by their interest in little Carl, which they had 
repeatedly shown by holding him in their arms, carrying 
him about the room, and otherwise “entertaining” him; 
so that his mother’s attachment to them was as nearly 
maternal as her conscience would permit it to be. 

“ O, I am so sorry to hear that,” she quickly 
responded, as she pressed her own child to her bosom, 
“ I must go and see them this evening.” She tried to put 
more cheerfulness into her tone, but found it impossible 
to do so. 


230 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


“I know it is too much to ask,” said Collins, very 
gratefully; “but if you could come for only a short time, 
Mrs. Collins would be very much gratified.” 

“ I will arrange to do so, Mr. Collins,” she answered. 

On reaching the Collins mansion, she found the little 
patients lying on different couches in the same room, while 
Mrs. Collins was so overcome with worry and anxiety, that 
she was utterly unable to secure the order and quiet so 
necessary in the care of the .sick. The “servants” had 
been called in again and again to perform some office of 
attention to the little sufferers, until they were all confusion 
and excitement ; and, although they seemed read}’ to do 
whatever might be wanted of them, none of them showed 
an inclination to act without the direct orders to which 
they were accustomed. 

Mrs. Collins seized her visitor’s hands, and wrung 
them in intensest agony, exclaiming; “O, Mrs. Elwood, 
Mrs. Elwood, is there anything you can do for them — they 
seem so very sick ! ” 

Very sick, indeed, they were; but not too sick to rec- 
ognize the face and form they had learned to love so dearly. 

Alice saw at once that they needed fresh air — how 
this most precious boon is shut out of the homes of both 
rich and poor — and quiet. She first secured the necessary 
ventilation of the sick room, and then, by a few kindly 
words to the “servants,” awakened tkeir mtcrcst in the 
task ot nursing the patients; and, at length, sought to 
compose Mrs. Collins. 

“You do not think they will dief" said the latter, 
most piteously. 

“ O, I hope not ! ” 

Alice said this with all the assurance she could com- 
mand ; but in spite of her efforts to retain perfect compo- 
sure. her tears could not be entirely restrained. 

Major Collins and Fred presently came in, each one 


AFFECTION AND AFFLICTION. 


231 


unconsciously manifesting surprise at the transformation 
that had been so magically wrought. 

“ I was very glad to have you come,” said Collins, in 
his most cordial and appreciative tone; and Fred looked 
at her in unqualified wonder and admiration. 

And the sick children, as if anxious to show their 
gratitude for the offices she had rendered in their behalf, 
smiled on her very sweetly as she bent over their couches, 
and soon fell into a light doze; and then she said: “I 
must go home to my own baby now, as he will be looking 
for me ; but I will come back to see Lulu and Lucy in the 
morning. I hope they will rest comfortably.” * 

“We will be very glad to have you do so,” said Mrs. 
Collins, almost beseechingly. 

As soon as she was gone, the carriage having been 
ordered for her, Fred remarked: “I told you, father, that 
Mrs. Elwood would come to-night, if you would ask her. ” 

“Yes, Fred,” he responded, very earnestly; “she 
is always ready to go where she can be of any service ; 
and how glad I am that you have such a good Sunday 
School teacher — if you always do what she tells you is 
right, you won’t make any mistake.” 

“ Your father’s remark is very true, Fred, and I hope 
you will always remember it,” added Mrs. Collins, with 
her almost wonted precision. 

It was after ten o’clock when Alice returned to her 
home ; and she found little Carl just waking up and begin- 
ning to cry for her. His simple wants were soon satisfied, 
and, after enjoying his mother’s smiles and caresses for a 
few minutes, he was soon asleep again. 

“What do you think about their case ? ” Henry asked. 

“O, I am so afraid, so afraid, they will die!” — And, 
with her head resting on his bosom, she let her tears flow 
freely, until her spirit was greatly relieved. 

She went again the next morning, and again the next 


232 


HEXRY ELWOOI). 


evening, continuing her visits from day to day, and watch- 
ing every phase of the disease that held its victims with so 
firm a grasp. Elwood, also, visited the afflicted household 
every day, giving them his most earnest sympathy and 
prayers. 

But all in vain ! The ravages of the disease could not 
be stayed ; and, on their fifth birthday, the much loved 
twins both died, one in the morning, and the other in the 
evening. 

It was Alice’s hands that closed their eyes in death, 
and assisted in preparing their bodies for burial ; and, at 
the funeral, it was noted by all in attendance, that her 
tears flowed as freely as those of the family. 

“We can never repay either of you,” said Collins, in 
his heartiest and most emphatic manner, to both Henry 
and Alice, as they called at the house in the evening ; 
“but we want you to understand that we will not forget 
what you have done for us; and if it should ever be in 
our power to do any service for j'oi/, we will surely do it ! ” 

Mrs. Collins also expressed herself to the same effect, 
declaring that ‘ ‘ no sister could have done more for me 
(her) than Mrs. Elwood has done.” 

Our preacher and his wife have rendered true and 
faithful service to their rich friends ; 

Will they always serve the poor and weak — who can 
not recompense them — just as faithfully, just as truly? 

We shall see ! 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


SHADES AND SHADOWS. 

But the Collins family by no means absorbed the 
entire attention of Elwood and Alice, even during the ter- 
rible sickness of the twin children. 

In addition to numerous other cases demanding more 
or less consideration, there was one of special seriousness 
only two squares from Collins’ residence. 

Lewis Gilbert had been known as one of the most 
active business men of Excelsior for the past twenty-five 
years. He had carried on a great many enterprises of his 
own, and had been interested in a number of others. 
Although reverse after reverse was encountered, his buoy- 
ant spirit rose above them all ; and he kept on his feet with 
his reputation untarnished and a fair credit at the banks. 
Always cheerful, hopeful and confident of success, he put 
the utmost enthusiasm into every enterprise, and lived in 
constant anticipation of the day when his bark would float 
on the highest tide of prosperity. 

But that tide never came to him. Instead thereof, 
for the last two or three years his losses had been growing 
a little more serious; and his financial credit had weakened 
to an extent that was very hard Tor him to realize. He 
made no sign of distress, however ; and it was not until 
the utter collapse of a speculative scheme on which he had 
built the highest hopes had left him several thousand dol- 
lars in debt, that he fully realized his situation. 

Had he been a few years younger, he might have 


234 


HEXRY ELWOOD. 


revived from even this blow ; but as it was, the overtaxed 
brain and nervous system gave way, adding to his 
financial ruin the most serious nervous prostration and 
threatened imbecility of mind. 

His creditors, Collins being among the principal ones, 
dealt very leniently with him, and he was permitted to 
save enough out of the wreck of his property to purchase 
a small cottage in the east end of the city, into which his 
family moved. 

“Lewis Gilbert befriended and encouraged me when 
I first started in business,” said Collins to Mrs, Gilbert, 
“ and I don’t want to see him or his family suffer for any- 
thing.” 

It was very hard for Gilbert to realize that his days of 
business activity were indeed over. For some time after 
his removal to their home in the East End, he would spend 
whole days walking through the busy parts of the city, and 
taking notice of the various enterprises that came before 
his eyes. In vievv of all these, his spirits would rise ; and 
he would talk to his acquaintances about different pro- 
jects that he wished to carry out, and which he believed 
would enable him to paj' all the debts that hung over his 
shoulders, and also gi\’e him a competence for his support 
in his old age. At night he would return to his home, and 
realizing how utterly he was separated from the business 
activity and enterprise to which he had been so devoted, 
he would fall into a state of abject melancholy, and would 
bewail his fate in the most pitiful terms. 

But, while the spirit of Gilbert was so completely 
broken, Mrs. Gilbert and her daughter Mina, thanks to 
the sympathetic counsel of their minister and his wife, 
heroically resolved to make the best of their situation. 
Collins was willing to offer Mina a situation in his store ; 
but Mrs. Collins, for reasons which will be clearly seen 
hereafter, objected to this ; and a place was obtained for 


SHADES AND SHADOWS. 


235 


her in a millinery store, that was two or three squares 
nearer her home — and about the same distance from Col- 
lins’ store. 

And before she had reached the age of eighteen, Mina 
Gilbert bravely undertook the task of supporting her par- 
ents on the meager salary that was allowed for her ser- 
vices. 

“Mrs. Elwood,” said Collins to Alice one day, in the 
presence of his wife, “ I know how much you are inter- 
ested in the Gilbert family, and if at any time they need 
help and you will let me know, I will do anything for 
them that you request.” 

And Mrs. Collins, who sincerely desired to stand well 
in Alice’s estimation, and was by no means destitute of 
sympathy for the Gilbert family, followed up her husband’s 
remark by saying, with some emphasis: “That is right, 
Joshua, we will give the Gilberts anything they need, 
especially if Mrs. Elwood requests it.” 

Fred Collins was two years older than Mina Gilbert, 
and they had been companions and playmates from earliest 
childhood, with never a quarrel or a misunderstanding 
between them. The Gilbert family never claimed the 
high social rank assumed by Mrs. Collins; but as long as 
they were able to maintain a tolerably good appearance, 
and there seemed a reasonable hope of Gilbert’s various 
enterprises coming to a successful issue, she offered no 
objection to the intimate friendship of the two children. 
As soon, howev^er, as she began to suspect the real condi- 
tion of his affairs, which was a year or two before his final 
collapse, she manifested no small degree of anxiety about 
the matter. 

To do her justice, it should be said that any mother 
would have been more or less exercised in mind at seeing 
the friendship of her child and another child ripening into 
love so early. 


•236 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


She tried for some time to ridicule and discourage. 
Fred, but forebore to issue her final decree until the worst- 
came to the worst in poor Gilbert’s affairs. Then at the 
breakfast table one morning, after an appropriate introduc- 
tion of the subject, turning her eyes first to Fred and then 
to his father, she said very calmly : 

“Joshua, this must go no further! ” 

How complete was her victory! No signs of Fred’s 
attachment to Mina shall she see for many a day ! 

Implicit obedience had been Fred’s lifelong habit; 
and, if he did not at once conclude that all was over in 
respect to his association with Mina, the spell that was on 
him was too strong for him to break out in rebellion, or 
even to think of meeting Mina or corresponding with her 
secretly ; at any rate, he did not see her for several days. 

While he was yet in this dazed condition of mind, he 
started one evening just before sunset with a horse and 
buggy toward the part of the city in which she lived. 
He was on a business errand for his father, with no thought 
of Mina in his mind, but passing her when she was about 
half-way home, without stopping to think whether he 
was disobeying his mother or not, he asked her to ride. 
She gladly accepted ; for, besides the pleasure of meeting 
Fred, it was the first ride she had had, except an occasional 
one on the street cars, since she began clerking in Mrs. 
Vincent’s millinery store. 

“ I haven’t seen you for several days, Fred,” she said, 
looking him straight in the eyes as soon as she had taken 
her seat in the buggy, “where have you been all the 
time ? ” 

“ I am very busy in the store now,” he answered, with 
color in his face and manifest embarrassment in his tone. 

“ How do you like it? ” — the same simple and unaf- 
fected manner she had always used with him, only a little 
more womanly. 


SHADES AND SHADOWS. 


237 


“Pretty well,” he answered ; and gradually laying 
aside the constraint that was on him, he proceeded to 
recount a number of his experiences since he met her last,, 
occasionally alluding to some event of their childhood 
days. 

As they approached her house, he slackened the 
speed of his horse, while in response to his inquiries about 
her life in her new home, she told him how well she liked 
it, except that it was very lonesome sometimes, especially 
in the evenings. She also told him that her work at the 
store was very tiresome some days ; but she added, looking 
again directly into his face, “ I am so glad I can help 
my father and mother; you know they were always so 
good to me, Fred.” 

What a look of interest and admiration he gave her 
as she said this, and how highly she prized it ! 

When he assisted her from the buggy, she thanked him^ 
very heartily for the ride ; and while, without any express 
intention of disobeying his mother, he was fixing the loca- 
tion of her house in his mind, she pleasantly said, “ Won’t 
you call some time, Fred ? ” 

O, mystery of fate, that these young hearts should 
find an insurmountable barrier to their innocent wooing 
and courting ! 

Fred was not as communicative as usual when he 
went home that evening ; and there were some signs of 
reserve on his part at the breakfast table the next morn- 
ing — but no inquiries were made, and no suspicions were 
aroused. 

And Mrs. Gilbert was much pleased to notice after 
this how Mina enjoyed her work at the millinery store, and 
how well it seemed to agree with her health and spirits. 

But three months later Alice Elwood said to her hus- 
band : “Henry, as I was coming from the East End in 
the street car this evening, I saw Fred Collins walking. 


238 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


home with Mina Gilbert; and from what her mother told 
me to-day, I believe he frequently spends an hour or two 
in the evening with her, taking care to be at home before 
bedtime.” 

“ Why, Alice, they have been lovers ever since they 
were little children, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, I know that; but you know what complete 
power Fred’s mother has over him, and she will never 
consent to his marrying her. I can not help feeling very 
much concerned about her future happiness ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


PRISONS AND PRISONERS. 

In the fourth or fifth year of Henry Ehvood’s pastor- 
ate at Excelsior, he wrote to his mother : 

Excklsioe, 188 - 

My Dkae Mother : 

You will recollect that during your visit last summer I began 
to do some religious work among the prisoners in our Peniten- 
tiary and in our city and county jails. Since that time I have 
given considerable attention to various questions connected with 
prison discipline and prison life. In addition to my inquiries after 
the spiritual condition of the prisoners, I have made myself 
acquainted with the history of a large number of them, and hav^e 
carefully studied their peculiarities of disposition and character. 
And what varieties I have found ! — nearly enough to overthrow 
all the theories 1 have ever had as to the causes of crime ! 

How easy it is to say that all these men deserve their fate, and 
to consider them all unworthy of either sympathy or respect ; but 
when one becomes actually acquainted with them, and sits doAvn 
in their cells and talks to them, he must see that only a small 
fraction of them, at most, are utterly hardened ; and the differ- 
ence in character between the average prisoner and the average 
■oitissen is not nearly so great as is generally supposed. 

Of course, nearly all the prisoners claim that they are suftering 
punishment unjustly ; and in studying these claims, and listening - 
to their various stories — not all of which are false, I am fully per- 
suaded — I am forced to the conclusion that, at least, a few of the 
men confined in the Penitentiary are entirely innocent, and that a 
certain per cent., which I will not assume to estimate, are onlj’ 
guilty cons/trtictvoely — such I believe is the imperfection of human 
justice. 

And it is impossible for the average prisoner to feel that he 
really deserves the terrible sentence of confinement and disgrace 


240 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


which he is suffering— that is, he does not believe he is so much 
worse than everybody outside of prison. 

I have been very careful not to allow my sympathy for the 
prisoners to make me forget the fact that they have transgressed 
the law, and that they are punished for the protection of Society, 
and that if they were not so punished, there could be no peace and 
security and no social order. 

1 must assume that society, in its administration of criminal 
law, has correctly measured the aggregate of punishment necessary 
to be inflicted for its protection. If this aggregate could be 
equally and fairly distributed among all offenders, the portion of 
each one would be much lighter than it now is. But, as a matter 
of fact, only a small fraction of transgressors are punished or even 
prosecuted ; and therefore it seems necessary, for society’s protec- 
tion, fhat they should suffer severely — that they should be, in a 
certain sense, scapegoats sent into the wilderness, bearing the 
weight of other men’s transgressions as well as their own ! 

Such is not my ideal of justice by any means; but it is my 
notion of the imperfection that yet attends our laws. 

A great many prisoners have said to me, in effect : “ There are 
many others just as guilty as I am ; but I happened to be caught 
and prosecuted ; and the officers said they must make an e.nuaple 
of me ! ” 

I sometimes even think — although I do not suppose many peo- 
ple would accept such a theory — that some of our prisoners are 
unwilling examples of the vicarious suffering that prevails 
throughout the earth ! — How else can I dispose of the generally 
accepted proposition that the extreme degradation to which they 
are subject is necessary for the safety and protection of society? 

At any rate, I can not dispose of the whole subject by con- 
cluding, as many do, that the prisoners are all suffering just what 
they deserve, and that all sympathy for them is only weakness and 
sentimentality. 

On the contrary, I believe that every thing that can be done 
ought to be done to ameliorate their condition and build up their 
self-respect. Panishmeni, in itself, ahmys tends to degradation ; and 
while I believe it is necessary, I also think it should be adminis- 
tered whth constant r'^ference to the reformation of offenders. 

And I do not take this view because 1 am indifferent to the 
public welfare and safety ; but because I believe society can 
most effectually protect itself in this way. But, of course, this 
would involve considerable evolution, if not reformation, on the 
part of the people as a whole. When public opinion becomes truly 
Christianized, we will all rise to a higher idea of justice than the 


PRISONS AND PRISONERS. 


241 


mere infliction of pain and degradation upon offenders — we will 
seek to cure the criminal’s disease, rather than to make him suffer. 

Notwithstanding the great progress we have made in prison 
reform, there are yet many features of Penitentiary discipline 
that are for no other purpose than to make the inmates feel their 
degradation. To convince the average prisoner that he deserves 
all that he has to endure would be to destroy the last vestige of his 
self-respect, and deprive him of all hope of reformation or improve- 
ment as long as he lives. 

It may be a weakness in me thus to feel for these prisoners, as 
bound and suffering with them ; but it is the inevitable result of 
the acquaintance I have formed with them and of the efforts I 
have made to do them some good. 

I have been very much interested in laws that our Legislature 
has recently enacted providing for the parole of prisoners whose 
good conduct justifies it; and I have strongly urged upon the 
management the adoption of blue and gray uniforms, instead of 
the degrading stripes that the prisoners are now compelled to 
wear. I have also expressed myself to the effect that some more 
liberty of conversation should be allowed the men, as the silence 
they noAV undergo must be very oppressive. 

My interest in this subject has been greatly heightened by an 
experience that has taken a very peculiar hold of my thoughts and 
feelings, and raised more questions in my mind than anything that 
I ever passed through. 

About three months ago, while walking through the shops 
where the prisoners in the Penitentiary were at work, I noticed a 
man whose face seemed' strangely familiar, and he looked at me 
as if he knew me. I passed on without paying any farther atten- 
tion to him, but before I left the prison, I inquired his name of the 
guards. J udge of my surprise when they showed me the register, 
And I there saw, in plain, unmistakable letters, “ George Marvel.” 

“ Can it be possible this is my old classmate? ” I asked myself. 

•‘George Marvel?” I repeated to the official who stood near 
me. “Why, I used to know such a man ! — he was my classmate 
in College ! ” 

“ Guess you are right — he says he graduated in Beulah Col- 
lege in this state about twelve years ago.” 

“ George Marvel ! ” 1 again exclaimed ; “ he is the last man I 
would expect to see inside the walls of a Penitentiary.” 

“Ah, some of these finely educated fellows often make excel- 
lent subjects for this institution,” he replied, rather dryly. 

“ What’s he here for ?” 

“ Embezzlement.” 


24-2 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


“He must have been unjustly convicted," I said, very ear- 
nestly ; “ he never could have been guilty of that crime." 

“ They nearly all say they are innocent when they come in," 
he answered, in his former dry tone ; “ but Marvel has told me his 
story in such a manner that I am half inclined to believe that he 
is innocent ; but we have nothing to do with that. Our duty is to 
take care of the men who are sent here, whether they are guilty 
or not." 

The next day I went back to the prison and had an interview 
with Marvel in the Chaplain’s office. I never realized what a dif- 
ference the prison garb makes in a man’s appearance until he came 
into my presence — what an effect it must have upon the pride and 
self-respect of every man who is compelled to wear it ! 

In reply to my inquiries as to the cause of his incarceration, 
he gave me his story at some length, w'hich I will relate to you in 
brief : 

He only stayed in New York a year or tw'O, finding it impossi- 
ble to pay his expenses where there are so many beggars and so 
many persons in need of all the comforts of life. He then 
obtained a situation as book-keeper and cashier in a store in 
Euclid, the county seat of Euclid county, in the northern part of 
this state. The salary was not large, but he managed to get along 
without running in debt. About three years ago, one of the 
clerks, a young man named Jones, who was the son of a widow 
with several younger children, began to take small sums of money 
from the drawer and appropriate the same to his own use. He 
was also employed as outside collector for the firm, and would fre- 
quently collect small bills from customers without turning over 
the money to the cashier. These peculations continued until they 
amounted to several hundred dollars ; and when Marvel discov- 
ered the young man’s offense .and took him to task for it, he 
begged most piteously to have it kept from the knowledge of the 
firm, promising to take no more money and make good what he 
had taken out of his wages as rapidly as possible. ^Moved by his 
entreaties and those of his mother, Marvel consented to this ; and 
Jones was permitted to keep his position without being exposed to 
the firm. 

But his spendthrift habits had got such a hold upon him that 
his peculations were soon renewed, and it was not many months 
before they amounted to more than twice the former amount ; 
and it was no longer possible to keep the firm in ignorance. 

It was a period of financial stringency, and the loss greatly 
aggravated the embarrassment under which the firm was laboring. 
Whether they believed that Marvel had appropriated some of the 


PRISONS AND PRISONERS. 


•243 


money to his own use, or was only guilty of concealing Jones’ 
offense from them, they were greatly incensed against him, and 
had him arrested as pnrticeps criminw with Jones, and set them- 
selves to work to secure his conviction. Jones, too, was arrested 
and lodged in jail, and the Prosecuting Attorney began to search 
for testimony upon which to bring the cases into court. Indict- 
ments were found by the Grand Jury against both Marvel and 
Jones; but although the Prosecutor believed Marvel guilty, he 
did not think a case could be made out unless Jones could be 
induced to testify against him. He accordingly had a number 
of interviews with .Jones in the jail, in the course of which he held 
out the hope of immunity from punishment and release from jail, 
in case he could give sufficient testimony against Marvel to secure 
his conviction. This proposition was too much for Jones’ very 
small sense of honor, and, without waiting for his own attorney’s 
advice, he promptly accepted it. 

Marvel and his counsel were so confident of an acquittal, not- 
withstanding the great mistake he had made in concealing Jones’ 
offense from the firm, that they made comparatively little prepar- 
ation for defense ; and they were completely surprised on the day 
of the trial, when Jones was put on the stand and testified not 
only that Marvel used a portion of the money, but gave a skillfully 
devised narrative of the dates and other circumstances under 
which the money was appropriated by them both ! A number of 
“ corroborative circumstances ,” such as Marvel’s frequent visits to 
Jones’ house, the number of times they were seen together on the 
street, and the close conversations which the other employes had 
often noticed them holding together in the store, were skillfully 
introduced in evidence by the State, and the Prosecutor, with an 
air of triumph, announced that he would rest his case. 

Marvel took the stand, and frankly stated that he had con- 
cealed Jones’ offense from the firm on account of sympathy for 
his mother ; but Jones’ testimony had been given to the jury in so 
plausible and apparently so candid a manner, and the cross-exam- 
ination had so completely failed to weaken its force, that Marvel’s 
admissions were considered additional “ corroboration,” if not a 
virtual confession of guilt. 

He was promptly convicted, and although his counsel made 
most earnest efforts to secure a new trial, sentence followed, and 
he was brought to the Penitentiary, and clothed in a felon’s 
garb. 

His conv’ction was a great surprise to nearly all his imme- 
diate aciiuaintances, and they secured a number of signatures to 
a petition for his pardon and presented the same to the Governor, 


*244 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


with the numerous points and arguments tending to prove his 
innocence of the crime. The Governor believed that the testimony 
was not sufficient for a conviction, but stated, after a long and 
eerious consideration of the case, that he could not consistently 
reverse the verdict of the jury, without helny fxiUy satisfied of MarreV s 
innocence; so the efforts to secure his pardon failed. 

Marvel shows a cheerfulness that utterly surprises me. He 
has been given a place in the Chaplain’s office, and the Chaplain 
says that he labors incessantly in behalf of the other prisoners, 
writing their letters, selecting their books for them, teaching the 
ignorant ones to read and write, and showing a disposition to help 
them in every way possible. 

Strange to say, he bears no malice against Jones, and has even 
said to me that he was glad Jones did not have to go to the Peni- 
tentiary, as it would have broken his mother’s heart. I can not 
consider it a virtue in him, however, to have no indignation at 
such baseness as was manifested by Jones. I am still hoping that 
some way can be found to secure his pardon, but, at present, 
there seems to be no prospect of it. 

Alice and little Carl both send their love to you. 

From Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Eewood, 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


SIN AND SORROW. 

“Henry, I hope I am needlessly concerned about 
Mina Gilbert ; but I can not help noticing that for some 
time past she has been more and more interested in Fred 
Collins. I think, however, that Fred has managed to 
keep his visits to her a secret from his mother.” 

It was two years after Mina began clerking in Mrs. 
Vincent’s millinery store that Alice Elwood made this 
remark to her husband. 

“ Perhaps they have made an engagement in spite of 
Mrs. Collins’ opposition,” he replied. “ Young men like 
P'red don’t always consult their mothers about such mat- 
ters.” 

“Yes, Henry, that is just what I am afraid of, that 
P'red has promised to marry her.” 

“Wouldn’t it be a very desirable thing for her? 
P'red is a fellow of good habits, and attends to his business 
very faithfully ; and they are both members of the church. ” 

“ It would be, Henry, were it not for P'red’s mother; 
and I have heard her speak of Mina in such a way as to 
show her feelings unmistakably — P'red would never dare to 
marry against her wishes.” 

“I should hate very much to see him promise to 
marry her and then disappoint her, Alice.” 

A month later the subject was renewed by Alice : 
“ Henry, have you noticed that Mina Gilbert hasn’t been 
at church or Sunday School the past two or three Sundays ? 


246 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


And I thought I saw such an anxious look on her face 
when I was in Mrs. Vincent’s store yesterday ; and when 
one of the girls made some allusion to Fred Collins, and 
jokingly asked her if she expected him to overtake her on 
the way home, she gave a nervous start that almost fright- 
ened me. She also seemed to have something on her 
mind that she would like to talk to me about ; but as there 
was no opportunity for this, she onl)- made some remark 
about the millinery that I purchased. I feel very anxious 
about her ! ” 

“ You certainly can have no grounds for fear in refer- 
ence to Mina, Alice ; she is a very pious girl ; ^nd how 
faithful and devoted she has been to her parents.” 

“Well, I must dismiss my fears, lest I do her great 
injustice.” 

Alice made a .sincere effort to free her mind of all 
apprehensions of evil concerning Mina, and partially suc- 
ceeded in doing so for the remainder of the day ; but at 
night her sleep was disturbed by a dream, in which she 
saw the object of her concern wandering by the wayside, 
under a dark cloud, which threatened to burst upon her in 
devastation and ruin. 

The next evening, just after the hour when all the 
stores and shops of the city were closed, Elwood not hav- 
ing yet returned from a funeral service which he had 
attended in the afternoon, Alice heard her door-bell ring 
with a sound that held her ears at a painful tension, until 
the last vibration had ceased. 

With a flutter of heart she could not suppress, she 
went to the door and opened it — Mina Gilbert was there ! 

Her story was soon told. Fred Collins had promised 
again and again to marry her, but had failed to do so ; 
and now — 

God pity every maiden who has trusted too fondly 
and loved too well ! 


SIN AND SORROW. 


247 


“ Everybody will despise and scorn me! ” she cried ; 
“and what will become of my poor father and mother, 
unless Fred will do as he promised?” 

“ What does Fred say? ” asked Alice, very kindly. 

“The last time I saw him, which was more than a 
week ago, he told me his father and mother, his mother 
especially, were opposed to his marrying at present, and I 
would have to wait a short time till he could talk to them 
and gain their consent — but I have’nt seen or heard any- 
thing from him since, although I have sent him two or 
three letters urging him to come and see me.” 

“That is what he ought to do, Mina, and I sincerely 
hope he will,” responded Alice, wdth all the assurance she 
could assume ; but de.spite her efforts, her voice faltered 
very perceptibly as she uttered the last sentence. 

“I believe he would do as he has promised,” con- 
tinued Mina, “if it were not for his mother.” 

“ Mina,” said Alice, in a truly sympathetic tone, “ I 
can not say much to you to-day ; but I will consult Mr. 
Elwood, and we will see whether anything can be done to 
have Fred fulfill his promise to you. I sincerely hope you 
will not be forsaken, even in this great trouble.” 

“Do 5^ou think the Lord will care for one who has 
sinned as 1 have, Mrs. Elwood? Will he forgive me, if I 
pray to him ? ” 

“ His mercy never fails those who are entirely peni- 
tent,” was Alice’s calm reply; but her spirit was too 
.sore and heavy to say more than this ; and, in a few min- 
utes, Mina took her leave, believing that at least one 
friend was left her in the wide, wide world ! 

When Elwood returned and Alice had communicated 
Mina’s revelation to him, they consulted to a late hour 
concerning their duty in. the prerr.ises. They agreed in the 
opinion, that whatever Fred might be willing to do, and 
whatever his father might think he ought to do, his mother 


248 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


would be bitterly opposed to his marrying Mina, and that, 
in all probabilit}', her will would prevail. While Elwood 
realized the delicacy of his situation as pastor, he resolved 
to shrink from no duty that was made clear to him, and he 
retired with the determination in his mind to see both 
Major Collins and Fred in the morning, and tell them both 
that he believed the promise to Mina ought to be fulfilled. 
“And since Fred is in your Sunday School class,” he said 
to Alice, “perhaps you could have .some influence with 
him.” 

“Henry,” she replied, “I believe Fred would be 
very willing to marry her — but O, his mother! ” 

“ You may have a duty to perform in reference to 
her, Alice.” 

“I do not know how that may be. Henry, but after 
the appeal that Mina has made to me, I will not forsake 
her — I will give her my sympathy and friendship in her 
trouble, whether Fred marries her or not.” 

Concerning Mrs. Collins, the\' could come to no con- 
clusion but to await the result of Elwood’s interview with 
Fred and his father. 

Hut Mrs. Collins’ eyes had been opened. A full week 
previous to this, she had incidentally heard from some one 
living in the I^ast End that 1^'red occasionally paid evening 
visits to Mina, and had been seen a number of times walk- 
ing home with her. The very day after she obtained this 
information, she ordered her coachman to drive her to the 
millinery store in which Mina was clerking, where she 
sought a private interview with Mrs. V'incent, the pro- 
prietress. 

In response to her inquiries about I'red and Mina, 
Mrs. Vincent promptly said: “All I know is that some 
evenings he meets her on the street just after she leaves 
the store, and they start towards her home together. I 


SIX AXl) SOKKOW. 


249 


hope his intentions are all right, but I have my doubts, 
and Mina has acted very strangely lately.” 

It would have required a very severe probing of Mrs. 
Collins’ consciousness to determine whether she would 
have preferred honorable intentions on Fred’s part to dis- 
honorable -ones; but it can be truly said that she was 
utterly opposed to his associating with Mina with an>- 
intentions whatever. 

Mrs. Vincent expected to be interrogated still farther, 
and could probably have responded with a list of dates 
and other circumstances (and surmises) ; but Mrs. Collins 
had learned all she wished to know, and speedily took her 
departure, resolving that action should be taken at once. 

She could not for a moment think it possible that 
Fred had compromised the family dignity by any intimacy 
with Mina which would give her a hold upon him in law ; 
but Mrs. Vincent's insinuation, although she felt very- 
much like resenting it at first, had opened her eyes very 
clearly to the gravity of the situation, and greatly stimu- 
lated her desire and determination to put a stop to h'red’s 
visits at once. 

“Joshua,” she .said to her husband, just before they' 
retired at night, after communicating to him the informa- 
tion she had obtained from Mrs. Vincent, “how is it that 
all this has been going on so near your store, and y^ou 
have never found it out ? ” 

“ Believe me, Elizabeth,” he protested, “ I hadn’t the 
least idea of it, and business matters have absorbed my 
attention.” 

“Joshua, these visits of Fred’s must .stop, if he has to 
go to Philadelphia and stay for some time ! ” 

“That is surely not necessary, Elizabeth,” he ven- 
tured to protest; “ Fred surely will not — ” 

“ I supposed myself,” she interrupted, “ that he would 
not desire to associate with a girl so far below him, but it 


HEXKY ELWOOI). 


seems that I have been mistaken, and he must not stay in 
Excelsior — he must go to Philadelphia until he gets over 
this foolish attachment.” . 

“ But Pdizabeth, Fred is very useful in the store, 
and — ” 

“You can easily hire some one else to taloe his place 
in the store, and as you hav'e often said that Fred ought 
to take a thorough course at a Commercial College, he can 
board at his uncle’s and do this — and he should go without 
delay.” 

All this was spoken in so decided a tone that Collins 
felt no inclination to argue the matter. Besides, with the 
single exception of going to Philadelphia, it was the very 
course that he himself had suggested to Fred a number of 
times, and he knew that Fred himself had the matter 
under consideration. 

So, with mingled craft and force of will, Mrs. Collins 
succeeded in getting her husband's co-operation in sending 
Fred to Philadelphia ; and now only F^red remained to be 
managed. 

She had, on two or three recent occasions, met some 
signs of resistance on the young man’s part, when she 
attempted to direct his course in too precise and author- 
itative a manner; and this had caused her to adopt a 
more gentle and persuasive tone with him — which she had 
found it more effective, too. 

So, instead of upbraiding him for his disregard of her 
decree in reference to Mina Gilbert, and renewing her in- 
junction in more emphatic terms, she commenced talking 
to him, after he came in the next ev'ening, having had no 
opportunity during the day, about the importance of his 
securing a more thorough commercial education, now that 
he was nearly twenty-one years old, and there was no rea- 
son why he should not become as successful a merchant as 
his father. After this appeal to his pride, she told him 


SIN AND SOKliOW. 


251 


how pleasant a time he could have at his uncle’s in Phil- 
adelphia, and what opportunities there would be for a good 
business training in that city. 

“But, mother, the Commercial College in Excelsior 
is just as good as any in Philadelphia.” 

“There are some advantages in Philadelphia that you 
will not have here, PTed,” she said, very emphatically, and 
then added: “There are other reasons why you should go 
to Philadelphia, that I must mention to you. You 
have lately been so imprudent as to walk home with Mina 
Gilbert a number of times ” — Fred lifted his eyes to her in 
blank astonishment, which she assumed not to notice — “ I 
am not going to censure you for this, as young men of 
your age are often apt to actMmprudently, and associate 
with girls who are beneath them socially ; but there is 
already considerable talk about it, and I fear there will be 
more, if you stay in Excelsior. You certainly do not want 
your name associated in this way with Mina’s, when you 
could never think of such a thing as marrying her ! ” 

P'red had just come from an hour’s interview with 
Mina, in which she had besought him, in the most piteous 
terms, to redeem his promise, and save her from the dis- 
grace that threatened her, and, as before stated, he had 
promised to talk to his father and mother and try to secure 
their consent to an early marriage , so that the effect of his 
mother’s utterance upon his mind and feelings may be 
easily imagined. His promise to Mina had still enough 
effect upon him to prevent a direct acceptance of his 
mother’s proposition ; but her words and manner most 
effectually prevented his saying anything to her about 
marrying Mina. 

And when he found that his father favored his moth- 
er’s plan, and that he must either act according to their 
wishes, or make a clean breast of his wrong-doing, and 
accept all the ridicule and shame that such a confession 


252 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


would involve, he proceeded to make his arrangements for 
an early departure to Philadelphia, leaving Mina to await 
the answer to her appeal — in vain ! 

Let it not be concluded, however, that the young 
man had no sincere love and respect for the girl he had 
wronged, and no qualms of conscience for the violation of 
his plighted word ; nay, more than this, he was strongly 
inclined, when alone with his father for a few minutes 
before his departure, to make a complete confession of the 
wrong he had done, and to declare his wish to atone for 
it by marrying Mina Gilbert. 

Perhaps if he had felt certain that he was safe from 
his mother’s ear, his better nature would have asserted 
itself, to this extent, at least; but, as it was, all impulses 
in this direction were borne down by the superior will to 
which he had all his life been subject. 

Are not the psychological forces to which we are sub- 
ject as irresistible as are the physical forces ? 

And at the very hour when Henry and Alice P.hvood 
were so seriously consulting and praying over their duty 
in reference to Mina Gilbert, Fred Collins boarded the 
train for Philadelphia, leaving her to bear the reproach of 
their mutual sin as best she could. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


SERVICE AND SACRIFICE. 

It was not without considerable misgiving, that Henry 
started on his errand- of duty the next morning. Collins- 
was seated in his private office, and, in a very few min- 
utes, he was made acquainted with the story of Mina Gil- 
bert’s. sorrow. 

“Why, Mr. PClwood,” he responded, with manifest 
embarrassment, “I wish I had known this a day sooner. 
PTed went to Philadelphia last night, and expects to be 
gone several months; ” and, fearing that Klwood doubted 
his sincerity, he proceeded to make a full statement con- 
cerning P" red’s departure and the causes leading to it, sol- 
emnly protesting that neither he nor Mrs. Collins knew 
that anything so serious had occurred. 

Pdwood was fully satisfied of Collins’ sincerity ; but he 
could not avoid an expression of his deep regret that Fred 
had left home, as both he and Mrs. P^^lwood had hoped for 
the fulfillment of the promise made to Mina Gilbert. 

He did not notice the deep blush that came over Col- 
ins’ face, as he heard Mrs. P21wood’s name, and was made 
fully conscious of her interest in the case. 

The two men sat together in perfect silence for some 
minutes, and then Collins .said ; “ I can not express to you, 
Mr. Elwood, how much this affair mortifies and distresses 
me. Fred has gone to Philadelphia, but Mina Gilbert and 
her parents shall be provided for — I will assure you of 
that.” And, after a few moment.':’ thought: “But money 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


■2rA 

can not atone for a wrong like this; Fred — ” he was going 
to say, “Fred ought to come home and marry her,” but 
he thought of the power that swayed his household, and 
■checked his utterance. 

Not feeling certain that it would be profitable to urge 
the matter any farther at present — rather, not seeing just 
what he could say to Collins that would be effective — 
Flwood returned to his home, and reported the result 
of his interview to Alice. 

“I fear we will have to give up all hope, Henry,” she 
said; in a more discouraging tone than he had ever heard 
her use; “If Mr. Collins had his way, I believe he would 
write to Fred to come home and marry Mina; but Mrs. 
Collins will never permit him to do it ; and even if Fred 
were here, I do not believe he would marry her in the face 
■of his mother’s opposition.” 

When Collins reported Elwood’s revelation to his wife 
in the evening, she calmly said : “ How glad we ought to 
be, Joshua, that Fred has gone to Philadelphia! What a 
mortification it would be to him and to us, if he were at 
home I But, after all,” she slowly continued — how fiatural 
it was for her to feel thus — “Mina’s story may not be 
true; she may be only trying to force Fred to marry her ! ” 

“ Elizabeth, if Fred has really promised — ” 

“Joshua, how surprised I am,” she interrupted, with 
a severity of tone even greater than that to which he was 
accustomed, “that you should think of such a thing as 
Fred’s marrying a milliner, especially under such circum- 
stances as these. Would you bring such a disgrace upon 
your family ? ” 

Joshua was silenced ! 

Feeling that his whole duty toward Mina Gilbert 
and her parents would not be performed without expres- 
sing his notion of Fred’s obligations in the hearing of both 
Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Elwood repaired to their residence 


SERVICE AND SACRIFICE. 


2o5 


the next evening, expecting to find them both at home, 
and resolving to deliver his message, whatever effect it 
might have upon them. 

“I will hope for your success,” said Alice, trying 
to encourage him, as she followed him to the door ; but 
before she realized what she was saying, she added, “I 
fear it will be hoping against hope ! ” 

To Elwood’s great disappointment, he found only 
Mrs. Collins at home, her husband having gone down 
street to fulfill some business engagement, which would 
probably occupy his attention the entire evening — but the 
word he had come to speak must be spoken ! 

Whether Mrs. Collins suspected his errand or not, 
she received him with the same special cordiality that she 
always manifested toward both himself and Alice ; and, 
after introducing the subject as skillfully as he could, he 
alluded to Mina’s condition, and declared that he could 
not discharge his duty as their pastor, unless he 
expressed his solemn opinion that Fred ought to marry^ 
her, and repair the wrong he had done her. 

Mrs. Collins suppressed whatever resentment arose 
in her breast; but immediately answered, with an emphasis 
that nearly staggered him; “Mr. Elwood, we are very 
sorry for Mina Gilbert’s misfortune, and Collins will see 
that she and all her family are properly provided for — 
whether Fred is guilty as she charges him or not ; — but a 
marriage is not to be thought of for a moment.” 

After hearing her through, he no longer wondered 
that Collins could not express himself more freely in ref- 
erence to Fred’s obligations. 

And let him not assume to “judge” Mrs. Col- 
lins — her own son, not somebody’s else’s, is involved ! 

How many mothers, in such cases, desire only that 
JUSTICE shall be done ? 

When Mina Gilbert learned that Fred Collins had left 


256 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


the city, her grief and distress knew no limit. Instead of 
the girl whom every one honored for supporting her father 
and mother, she saw herself an object of scorn and 
reproach — despised and shunned by all who knew her — and 
compelled to endure all the pains and perils of her condi- 
tion without either sympathy or respect ! 

Hut is any prison-house of the human soul so dark, that 
no ray of light can enter it? Is any stormy sea of our 
earthly life so bounded with rocks, that it furnishes no har- 
bor or haven whatsoever ? Is any wronged girl so desolate 
and forsaken, that she can find no bosom on which to lean 
her head ? 

In the depth of her distress, Mina Gilbert called to 
mind, that when she revealed her secret to Alice Ehvood, 
she was not spurned from the door as one unworthy of all 
womanly sympathy and counsel. “ But,” she said to her- 
self, with a thrill of pain, “ I then had some hope that Fred 
would marry me — but what will she say now?” 

With trembling steps she presented herself at the par- 
sonage door, and was received as kindly as before. " 

“ May I come in ? ” she pitifully asked ; and when she 
took the seat that was offered her, she could only look 
around, for a time, in speechless misery. 

“ O, Mrs. Elwood,” she at length said, “ what will 
become of me now ? I will have no friends, and my poor 
father and mother — ” 

“ Mina, your trouble is a very great one, but if you 
will bear it bravely, the Lord will sustain you and raise up 
some friends for you. Mr. Collins says that neither you nor 
your parents shall suffer for anything. All I can say now 
is, endure as patiently as you can, and trust in the wisdom 
and goodness of our Heavenly Father.” 

“ Do you really think he will hear my prayers, Mrs, 
Elwood ? ” 

“ He has promised to hear all his creatures when they 


SERVICE AND SACRIFICE. 


257 


cry to him ; and I believe that Christ died for errring 
women as well as erring men. I will pray for you every 
<Jay, Mina.” 

“O, Mrs. Elwood, this is more than I deserve,” was 
the grateful reply. “Will you, indeed, be my friend, and 
my father’s and mother’s? ” 

“Yes, Mina, you can count on my friendship to the 
last, whatever others may say.” 

And Mina went away in full confidence that this 
promise would be made good. 

There was no small degree of surprise at the number 
of visits Alice made to the Gilbert cottage and the time 
she took pains to spend with Mina and her mother during 
the weeks and months that followed ; but no one dared to 
question the purity and disinterestedness of her motives ; 
and there was gradually awakened in the minds of all who 
knew her a decided admiration for her faithfulness and 
devotion. 

“ I must perform this office for Mina,” she said to her 
husband, “even if I stand alone— yes, even if I have to 
suffer reproach on her account.” 

And when Mina’s hour of trial came, and she must 
go down to the gates of death that a new life might be 
ushered into the world, her dear friend was by her side, 
helping her to bear her anguish, and striving to cheer and 
smile away her shame ! 

In thus placing herself between the wronged girl and 
the reproaches of society, our Alice, indeed, stood alone ; 
but in the visions of the night, she saw the face of the 
Christ shining upon her, as he touched her brow, 
and said, “ Inasmuch as you did it unto one of the least of 
these, you did it unto me ! ” 


CHAPTER XL. 



WORK AND WAGES. 

Excelsior, January 1., 188-. 

My Dear Mother : 

Our little Carl is three years old to-day, and how bright and 
interesting he has become to us. Since your visit last summer, 
your name is frequently upon his lips, and he often expresses a 
desire to see you again. 

Clara Martin, with whom you became so well acquainted while 
here, is very active in all religious and reformatory work that is 
open to her. Although she has only lived in the city a little over 
a year, she is already recognized as one of the most active and 
most devoted laborers in the Master’s vineyard, and I have reason 
to believe that she will be the means of doing very great good. 

In connection with a few other very devout women, she has 
recently started a Home for Fallen Women, and they have had 
the satisfaction of rescuing a number of girls from a life of sin 
and helping them to start on a course of reformation and res- 
toration to pure and true womanhood. Alice has been very much 
interested in their work, and has given it as much time and atten- 
tion as her many other duties would permit. They all say that 
the great difficulty in doing anything for these women, even after 
the desire for reformation is awakened in them, is to restore their 
self-respect, and relieve them of the conscious degradation, that they 
suffer. 

In studying this subject, I have been deeply pained at the per- 
ils and temptations to which the poor working girls of the city are 
subjected, and at the devices that are employed to lure them to 
destruction. And then how the poor wretches avenge their own 
ruin and degradation by dragging down the men, both old and 
young, who become their dupes and victims. 

The shops and stores of our city are crowded with young girls 
who are willing to work ten or twelve hours a day for very low 
wages, while “ house servants” are in constant demand where the 
Avork IS lighter and the pay decidedly better. T used to think the 


WORK AND WAGES. 


25U 


girls were very much to blame for this; but since Alice and I have 
talked to a number about it, it is impossible not to sympathize with 
them very largely. They say that every girl who goes into domes- 
tic service is at once put under the most rigid social ban, and is 
constantly made to feel that she is a menial, and nothing else. 

Some of the girls have also said to Alice that their chances for 
marrying well would be almost entirely cut off, as respectable 
young men would not visit them in other people’s kitchens. Not 
one have we found who would accept the idea that a place in a 
Christian home is better than a cigar shop or a factory. 

“There is no Christian home in Excelsior for a working 
woman ! ” is their very general exclamation. 

The mothers of dependent girls nearly all feel the same way — 
and I think it is very natural that they should. 

Another thing that pains me is that I can find no way to preach 
to this class or offer them the full privileges of the church. I do 
not mean that they would be refused admission to the membership 
of the church, if they should apply; but I can not invite and 
encourage them to attend the church services as I would wish to- 
do, because I know there is a feeling on their part, that they are 
not wanted in our pews. 

They seem to be separated — “ differentiated ’’—from all other 
classes, so far, at least, as social privileges and the services in our 
Protestant churches are concerned, (fod knows 1 would be very 
glad to iDreach the ( Jospel to every creature, not even excluding 
“ servants ” and “ sinners,’’ but when I see the line of coaches in 
front of my church every Sunday morning after the services, and 
reflect that perhaps in every ricli and well-to-do family, the cook 
has been compelled to spend the forenoon in preparing the dinner, 
I wonder to what extent I can claim to be fulfilling our Lord’s 
command ! 

And yet these girls are expected to bear their social stigma, 
and at the same tune prove themselves very faithful, very indus- 
trious and very much interested in their duties ! 

1 can not fee why this most important of all occupations 
should be accounted so degrading by “ society.” 

1 know there are many difficulties connected with the ques- 
tion, but most of these could be easily disposed of, if there were a 
disposition among even Christian women to recognize the woman- 
hood and the social nature of tliose who serve them. If the 
obligations of the Golden Rule were acknowledged by the “ mis- 
tresses” of large houses, we could at least the privileges of 
tlie gospel to all women as well as to all men! 

This whole question of the relation of the rich to the poor is 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


t>00 

•one that must seriously perplex the soul of every minister of 
Christ, especially in a large city where the inequality in respect to 
property is so glaring. 'While I have not pretended to solve the 
problem, I have preached, and have endeavored to present it as 
something more than a “glittering generality,” that the property 
of the rich is not their arm, but that they should hold all their pos- 
sessions as Kteirnrds for the highest good of society ; and I think 1 
may say without boasting that my preaching, of this principle has 
not been in vain, so far as many of my hearers are concerned. 

Since you wi re here last summer we have had a very pleasant 
visit from my friend Allison and his bride, nee Miss Blanche 
.Jordan. Although they are not as youthful as most newly mar- 
ried couples, their devotion to each other is of the most beautiful 
order, and 1 believe it will be as enduring as their lives. 

My friend Vernon is much better satisfied with life since he 
l>egan to take somepait in our religious meetings ; but he can not 
get over a feeling of regret that he gave up the ministry, although 
at the same time he protests that it was necessary. I have tried to 
persuade him that he might yet become a minister, but he always 
replies that it is too late, and that his practice of another profes- 
sion has unfitted him for the ministerial office, even if he could 
become strictly orthodox again — which, he says, is impossible. 

He and Clara Martin meet at our house occasionally, but 
iiUhough they have the very highest regard for each other, there 
seems to be no prospect of their renewing their former engage- 
ment. Alice feels very hopeful, however, that they will one day 
do so — she often expresses the wish that she may live to see their 
hearts united once more. 

T am happy to inform you that our efforts to secure a pardon 
for my classmate Marvel have at last proved successful. 1 say onr 
efforts, because several others besides myself (including a number 
of the leading citizens of Excelsior) were interested in the matter. 
1 even secured some assistance from Mark Conklin, which his 
acute sense and the knowledge he has gained of the law enabled 
him to give. 

“ Don’t call on me for any more such work, ElwOod,” he said 
to me as soon as the pardon was signed by the Governor : “for my 
stock of Christian charity— if I ever had any— is utterly exhausted, 
and is never likely to be replenished, at least not in tins world ! ” 

Marvel’s services among the prisoners were deemed so valua- 
ble by the officials of the Penitentiary, that they have given him a 
position in the institution as an instructor of the inmates ; and 
although he himself is free, his labors in their behalf continue as 
unremitting as before. 


WORK AND WAGES. 


261 


I received a letter from Harry Howard, my former Mission 

School protege, a few days since. He is in College, and is 

studying for the ministry, which he hopes to enter in a very few 
years. This alone is a sufficient reward for all my mission labors 
while in the Seminary, as I can confidently predict a very success- 
ful career for him wherever his lot may be cast. 

Concerning theological questions I am still seeking light, and 
thanking God for the light he has given me. I have heretofore 
written to you concerning my difficulty with the doctrines of 
future punishment and total depravity, and the partial conclu- 
sions I had come to in reference to them. I can add nothing, 
except that I see still more clearly how much truth they contain, 
and how impossible it is to understand them fully. 

The problem of the Trinity has given me very great perplex- 
ity ; but when I learned to regard it as the expression of a great 
spiritual fact, and not as a mere mathematical problem, my diffi- 
culty became very much less, so that now, although T still realize 
how great a mystery that doctrine involves, it has become, to some 
extent, a comfort and inspiration to me, instead of a puzzle (if 1 
may so designate it) and a source of perplexity. 

Still more difficult to settle has been the question of the Atone- 
ment. Relieve me, mother, when I tell you that I have walked 
the ffoor many hours at night in considering the (piestion what 
view or theory of this doctrine I ought to adopt, and what was the 
truly honorable course for me as a Presbyterian minister to take. 
The mystery of this doctrine, as well as that of the other doctrines 
of the Confession, increases the more we study it, just as the hori- 
zon widens when rve ascend a hill or mountain ; but I believe that 
1 have not studied this subject m vain. 1 have no definite and 
final “ theory of the Atonement;” but 1 believe — yes, I know — 
that Jesus Christ, in both his life and his death, fulfilled, and 
taught us to fulfill, the great and universal law of sacrifice. Woe 
is me, if I preach not this law! 

.Since giving up tlie belief in verbal inspiration and in the abso- 
lute “inerrancy” of the Bible, I have been led to study it with 
increased avidity and enthusiasm, and my appreciation of the vir- 
tue and excellence of tlie book has beengreatly enhanced. 1 know 
it is a divine book, because it is so human. I can not describe the 
manner of its inspiration, but 1 know it is inspired, even as 1 know 
that the sun shines on the earth ! 

In the very partial solution of these questions that I have 
attained, how much I have been indebted to Alice. With almost 
infinite patience she has listened to all my difficulties and given 
me the benefit of her marvelous insight and clear understanding, 


262 


HENKY ELWOOD. 


always making me feel that I was safe in following her counsel. 
Never once have I sought her help in vain — never once has she 
failed to give me the very counsel that I needed. I may fitly 
descril^e her as an angel of light, always illumining my path, and 
pointing me to the heights of the mountain, where the true and 
the beautiful and the good are to be found ! 

When I expressed the fear that I was indulging in too much 
freedom and range of thought, she answered, “ The people want 
your thought, Henry ; and don’t you see how highlj'^ they appre- 
ciate it every Sunday ? ” 

When I told her that my conscience was sorely exercised with 
the question whether I ought to remain in the ministry of the 
Presbyterian church with such doubts as were in my mind, she 
softly and sweetly sang : 

“ When thro’ liery trials thy i>ath\vay sliall lie. 

My grace all-suflicient shall be th)* supply ; 

The flames shall not hurt thee, I only design, 

Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to kkkixe! ” 


Whenever 1 have felt weary or discouraged — and she never 
fails to notice feelings of this kind, whether I express them or 
not — her voice of cheer and comfort has come to my ear as unfail- 
ing as the rising of the sun, bidding me execute my divine commis- 
sion and preach the gospel of the kingdom, according to the high- 
est measure of the gift that is in me! “I have prayed for you 
that your faith fail not, my dear Henry,” she has said to me again 
and again. 

If my ministry in the Presbyterian church has resulted, or 
ever shall result, in any good, how much of it will I owe to my 
wife — and mv mother 1 

My work, as you know, is very great ; but 1 remember the 
words of Christ, “ He that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth 
fruit unto life eternal ! ” 

Alice often says I ought not to seek any higher rew’ard or 
w’ages for my service than the service itself — is she not right? 

From Your Affectionate Son, 

Henry Ei.woon. 

“ What ‘ service ’ do you refer to? ” asked Mark Conk- 
lin, after Elwood had read him the foregoing letter just 
before sealing it. “Would not the city be just as pros- 
perous, and the people just as happy, if you had never 
come here? ” 


WOliK AND WAGES. 


263 


“ I must concede,” was the reply, “that I have done 
very little, comparatively speaking; but, as I say in my let- 
ter, I don’t believe I have labored altogether in vain. 
Some good, at least, has been accomplished, and 1 hope 
to see much greater results in the future.” 

“Your promised ‘Millenium’ is a long way oft', at 
any rate ? ” 

“ But we are making constant progress toward it.” 

“And suppose it should come in your day— suppose 
you should ‘ abolish poverty ’ or even get all ) our rich 
men to acknowledge themselves ‘ stewards ’ (whatever you 
may mean by that term) — suppose the people should all 
become intelligent and even religious — would they be 
any happier than they now are?” 

“ It surely requires no argument to show that if any 
one could bring about the results you speak of, he would 
be doing mankind the greatest possible service.” 

“ .Sure of that, are you? Why is it then, that all the 
progress we do make, whether in wealth, or in knowledge, 
or even in religion, only increases our desires — and our 
disappointments. ” 

“ ‘ Only increases’ them ; do you really mean that, 
Conklin?” 

“ I will strike that word only from the pleadings — you 
see I have picked up some legal phrases, if not legal knowl- 
edge — if you wish, but what are the facts ? Are not igno 
rant people as happy as educated people ? Are not the 
poor people in Excelsior, for whom you are so much con- 
cerned, as happy as the rich — are not laborers as happy as 
their employers, and even ‘ servants ’ as happy as their 
‘ mistresses? ” Are not people who give no attention to 
religion as happy as those who do ? Why, tlien, should you 
rack your brain from week to week about the ‘ condition ’ 
of these people, when you can not change the order of 
things, and would do them no real ‘ service’ if you could.” 


•264 


HEXKY ELWOOI). 


■ “I believe myself,” was HLhvood’s reply, “ that Prov- 
idence has wisely ordered that no class or classes of people 
shall monopolize the happiness which is the portion of the 
race, or even obtain an undue portion of it ; but, plausible 
as your statements are, they are made from the standpoint 
of the night, rather than of the day, P'or myself, I prefer 
to be a child of the day, and to find in life itself a reward 
for all the services and activities of life ! ” 


CHAPTER XLI. 


SIGNS AND SYMBOLS. 

“ Mr. lilvvood,” said IVof. Humboldt, as the two men 
were taking a walk in the fields and groves outside the 
city one summer afternoon, “why is it that whenever a 
system of religion is devised, it must be made up of so 
many absurd theories, or ‘ doctrines, ’ as they are called? 
Even if we assume that man has a religious nature which 
must needs manifest itself in acts of worship, why can not 
men be taught to recognize and adore the Supreme Power 
without burdening their minds with a load of superstition 
that defies all reason and sense? ” 

“Admitting for the sake of argument,” was Pdwood’s 
reply, “that there is more or less ‘superstition ’ connected 
with the accepted doctrines of Christianity, let me ask 
whether you do not find something similar to it connected 
with all other subjects of human knowledge and considera- 
tion.” 

“There is no superstition about science, at any rate, 
my friend Elwood ; she stands upon fact and fact alone ; 
she requires positive demonstration before she will accept 
any conclusion whatever.” 

“You teach Geography by means of globes and 
maps, do you not ? ” 

“Yes, but there is nothing akin to superstition in 
that ; the globe only represents the earth ; the map repre- 
sents Europe, Asia or America, as the case may be.” 

“ You do, at least, call your symbol by the name of 
the thing it represents ? ” 


•J6G 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


“ Very well; but I see no traces of superstition in all 
this,” said the Professor, rather thoughtfully. 

“You teach Geometry and Trigonometry by means 
of figures on slate or blackboard ? ” 

“ Suppose we do ? ” 

You call your figure bounded by three straight lines 
a triangle, and you give the name of circle, square and so 
on to other figures. Is there any such thing — I mean any 
such objective fact — as a triangle or circle or square or 
any other Geometrical figure that you could name? And 
yet you will draw your figure on the board, and not only 
call it a triangle, but analyze and discuss it as if it pos- 
sessed all the properties of a triangle.” 

“Put the superstition?” responded the Professor, a 
little worried. 

“I do not wish to dispute about words or terms,” 
PUwood replied; “you will, at least, admit that mathe- 
matics, exact a science as it is claimed to be, can only be 
taught or studied by the use of symbols — ^our mental con- 
cepts must have some visible and tangible representation? 
And, of course, you will admit that no symbol fully repre- 
sents the thing for which it stands?” 

“The very idea of a symbol implies that.” 

“And the more we become acquainted with any 
object or principle or concept, the more inadequate will any 
symbol of it appear to us. A common globe put before a 
child’s eye might be of great value in acquainting him 
with the shape and other qualities of the earth — but it 
would be of scarcely any use whatever to men of our age.” 

“ Are you claiming that \’Our theological doctrines 
are only globes or maps or figures drawn on slate or black- 
board ? I have always supposed they were solemn and eter- 
nal verities perse ~the\- are presented to us as such.” 

“ Without stopping to answer this thrust of the Pro- 
fessor, Elwood continued: “As I have said, you call the 


SIGNS AND SYMBOLS. 


267 


figure on the board a veritable triangle, and, at least for the 
time being, regard it as such, but its importance consists 
in the fact that it represents a triangle — why, then, will you 
not take our statements of doctrine as symbols of truth, 
however inadequate and imperfect they may be ? ” 

“Your analogy is certainly far-fetched, if it be an 
analogy at all,” replied the Professor. 

“ Well, I will try to find one that is clearer,” continued 
Elwood. “ Let me state a few simple facts in Nature. 
Our eyes cannot abide the direct rays of the sun, but 
must be protected by our eyelids ; our stomachs cannot 
receive pure nutrition, but all our food must be taken in 
bulk and go through the process of digestion, the chyle 
being assimilated and the excrement thrown off; our knowl- 
edge of all material things, as Herbert Spencer has so 
clearly shown, is, at best, only ‘ relative and is it not a 
fact that* most of our advances in physical science have 
been made by means of investigations and experiments 
conducted upon false, or partly false, hypotheses?” 

“I must admit,” said the Professor, “that this oak 
tree, under which we are sitting, is a protection from the 
heat of the sun as well as my eyelids are a protection from 
its direct rays ; but whatever force and pertinency there 
may be in these analogies, I don’t see how you help your 
doctrines, at least from the orthodox standpoint. Chris- 
tianity is supposed to be a direct revelation from heaven ; 
but you make it nothing more than a branch of science, 
or a sort of common law subject to constant change and 
evolution. Are you not making a fundamental departure 
from orthodoxy in seeking to defend it in this manner ? 
Would not your Presbytery make you a subject of disci- 
pline, if you were to speak thus in your pulpit?” 

“Presbytery has, at least, taken no action abridging 
my freedom of thought, and it certainly could not, if it 
would, close my eyes to the plain facts in the case ; but 


2G8 


HENRY EE WOOD. 


what I would like to ask you is, whether it is either logi- 
cal or ‘ scientific ’ to put the brand of ‘ superstition ’ upon 
the symbols of Christianity, as long as the symbols of 
mathematics are so imperfect, and as long as science can 
give us no absolute knowledge of anything? ” 

“Are you claiming, then, that Christianity is a subject 
of evolution, instead of a direct and absolute revelation 
from heaven? ” asked the Professor, with some assurance. 

“Rather do I claim that it is a revelation from 
heaven and a subject of evolution. If evolution is the uni- 
versal law or principle of the universe, why should not 
Christianity be brought within its scope and operation ? 
Why should it not adapt itself to the advances of science 
and the development of the human intellect ? Why should 
it not have leave to grow, as well as the trees and the 
grass that are before our eyes?” 

“ But you claim it divine?" 

“ And I would ask no higher proof of its being a 
divine revelation than its capacity of evolution. Nature 
herself is a perfect revelation ; but how slowly and 
gradually we come to a knowledge of her various laws 
and forces ! Is it not so with spiritual things ? The 
creeds themselves have been evolved from experience ; 
they are, at best, but symbols of the reality, but the set- 
ting of the diamond, but finite expressions, or outlines, of 
the infinite truth. If you will substitute the word iinpei- 
fection for the word ‘ superstition,’ I will find no fault with 
your nomenclature, at any rate.” 

“You have undertaken no common task, Elwood, in 
thus assuming to reconcile religion with science and phi- 
losophy. ” 

“ The task ought not to be so very difficult,” was the 
quiet reply; “there is nothing so scientific and so 
philosophical as Religion; and both Science and Philos- 
ophy should ever be imbued with the religious spirit.” 


CHAPTER XLII. 


DOGMAS AND DOCTRINES. 

“But,” continued the Profes.sor, “many of your 
doctrines, as stated in the Confession, are not even fit sym- 
bols of truth. Take ‘eternal punishment,’ for instance. 
Is it not an essentially barbarous and inhuman idea that 
finite creatures are to suffer ‘ eternal torments ’ for their 
acts, and for no other purpose than to gratify the ven- 
geance of their Creator? ” 

“ Still it embodies and expresses^ — crudely and imper- 
fectly, if you please — the sense of justice in the human 
breast, and the everlasting distinction between right doing 
and wrong doing. This vital fact must have some form 
and expression, must it not ? ” 

“ My objection is to the idea of eternal punishment as- 
well as the words; my notion of punishment is that it 
should be reformatory, and when the reformation is accom- 
plished, the punishment should cease.” 

“ Without entering into the question,” said Elwood, 
in re.sponse, “ whether the analogies of Nature will sustain 
your theory to any considerable extent, when you can 
show that there is not an eternal difference between the 
effects of right doing and the effects of wrong doing, it will 
be time for you to object to all idea of eternal punishment. 
Does not every act of our lives produce its certain effect?”" 

“That doesn’t imply eternal torments.” 

“I am very willing to have a more refined term; but 
does not the fact remain that we can not sin with impu- 
nity, in view of either the present life or the future life ?■ 


•270 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


I believe, however, that the punishment of our sins is 
moral, rather than legal ; it is their inevitable result, rather 
than the direct infliction of pain.” 

“But your doctrine of the Atonement; what could 
be more absurd and immoral than to teach that an inno- 
cent person was punished — made to suffer the most pain- 
ful and ignominious death — for the sins of the guilty ? ” 

“ I concede that the doctrine as stated in that way is 
a stumbling-block ; but there is a principle of vicarious suf- 
fering in Nature as well as in human life, that must be 
recognized by both science and philosophy. Vegetables 
•derive their sustenance from the soil and the atmosphere ; 
animals feed on vegetables and on one another ; man slays 
and feeds on the lower animals ; and when we come up tu 
the plane of human society, how clear does the law become 
to us. Soldiers die for their country ; parents suffer for 
their children ; friends suffer for friends ; good men often 
suffer most seriously for the wrong doing of others. 
Would you say that these things are ‘immoral?’” 

“ They are certainly inexplicable; but that does not 
prove that they are to appease the wrath of a being who is 
angry on account of people’s sins — that would be, at best, 
a very unsatisfactory solution of the mystery — worse than 
none at all. ’ 

“lam not claiming to solve the mystery. I only 
point \ ou to these facts, and ask you to scientific notice 
•of them before you condemn the doctrine of vicarious 
atonement as utterly unjust or immoral. Say what you 
will about every person’s bearing the consequences of his 
own acts, it is impossible for any one to commit a single 
trangression without affecting others, directly or indi- 
rectly, and causing them to suffer for his wrong doing — 
^?omething in the nature of atonement (if some other word 
be more agreeable to you, I will not complain) must be 
made for all our evil deeds ! Did not St. Paul express a 


DOGMAS AND DOCTRINES. 


271 


■great deal of the philosophy of life when he said : ‘ And 
without shedding of blood is no remission ? ’ ” 

“But all these facts,” replied the Professor, a little 
embarrassed, “would not justify a judge in inflicting the 
penalty of the law upon an innocent person and letting the 
guilty go free?” 

“ I frankly confess,” replied Elwood, “ that the view 
of the Atonement which represents Christ as a mere sub- 
stitute for man in suffering the penalty of the law, or his 
death as a mere expiation of human guili, is objectionable 
to me, both because of its prinia facie injustice, and 
because it is based on the theory that man sustains only a 
legal relation to his Creator, instead of the vital relation 
that Christ taught and emphasized so earnestly ; but 
whatever criticism I may make upon the symbol, I believe 
that the truth it represents, or at least, suggests, is univer- 
sal and eternal.” And then, after a pause of some min- 
utes, during which they both unconsciously looked up to 
the sky, as if in search of some revelation upon the sub- 
ject in question, he continued : “Although the mystery of 
this law is insoluble, I believe it lies at the foundation of 
human society and of all human institutions, and I most 
-earnestl)- desire to understand the obligations that it sug- 
gests and imposes upon me.” 

“Whether you are preaching the orthodox doctrine 
•of the Atonement, or some other ‘gospel,’ is more than I 
•can make out. I might as well try to explain how there 
can be three Gods, and yet only one ! ” answered the Prof- 
essor, a little sarcastically. 

“ Neither would I assume to give you a viatJicniatical 
■explanation of that question ; but the manifold manifesta- 
tion of Deity and the unceasing operation of his Spirit are 
very precious truths to me, so far as I am capable 
•of comprehending them ; and so long as this doctrine 
seems to me to express the vital union of the divine 


272 


HENKY ELWOOJ). 


and the human, I shall cherish it most sacredly, notwith- 
its seeming absurdity when regarded merely as a mathe- 
matical proposition . ’ ’ 

“And what do you say in reference to miracles?”’ 
asked the Professor, with consideral pungency ; “Do you 
believe in them in the same manner you believe in the 
Trinity and the Atonement — that is, by explaining away 
their force and effect.” 

“1 would rather say,” responded El wood, “that I 
believe in them in such a manner — I certainly desire to 
believe in them in such a manner — as to give them their 
true ‘ force and effect.’ ” 

“That is, I suppose, as attesting the truth of Chris- 
tianity and the infallibility of the New Testament writers. 
Can you explain to me how a miracle — admitting that 
miracles are possible — could attest the infallibility of the 
man who performed it? But there is a greater difficulty 
than that for you to solve. If the orthodox miracle means 
anything at all, it means something that has been done 
contrary to the laws of Nature ; how can we know that any 
given result has been produced in that way, unless we have 
a perfect knowledge of the laws of Nature and the manner 
of their operation ? ” 

“Your last inquiry is very pertinent, I concede,’” 
answered Pilwood. “but its force depends very much on 
what you mean by the ‘ laws of Nature, ’ and your sugges- 
tion of the limitations of human knowledge applies to one 
who denies miracles much more than to one who believes 
in them. To my mind, the fundamental idea of a miracle 
is not a violation of law, but a manifestation of a higher 
law than the laws with which we are familiar, rather the 
manifestation of moral force as opposed to material force. 
The progress of our age possesses no more prominent fea- 
ture than the triumph of man’s intellect over the material 
forces of the earth. This is an unceasing miracle (wonder) 


DOGMAS AND DOCTKINKS. 


273 


to US — ^how much greater miracle is the triumph of moral 
force over both material and intellectual force ! ” 

‘ ‘ Then you do not believe the age of miracles is 
past ? ’ ’ 

“lam not curious to measure and define — still less to 
■“ materialize ’ — this force of which I speak ; but I believe 
that it works always and everywhere, and' that we shall 
never cease to be surprised at its manifestations in Nature 
and in human experience. What can I do in the presence 
of this perpetual power but love, adore and wonder ? ” 

“And do you still adhere to your infallible, or 
■“ inerrant ’ Bible?” 

“Why should I need an infallible — lam using the 
word in its strictest and most literal sense — or inerrant 
Bible any more than I need an infallible church or an in- 
fallible Pope ? Inspiration involves the human coefficient ; 
and therefore the writers of the Bible can not be consid- 
ered above all error — they certainly never made such a 
claim for themselves. They sought to inspire our facul 
ties, rather than to impress their authority upon us. The 
authority which they proclaimed was the authority of the 
Truth!” And the doctrine of an infallible Bible, as 
opposed to the authority of Popes and Kings and ecclesi- 
astical councils, is a very different thing from the same doc- 
trine, as opposed to human progress and development — we 
can not mean the same thing by it, in all respects, that the 
Reformers did. Do not understand me, however, as con- 
demning the principle of authority, in toto — I only wish to 
assert its proper relation to our age.” 

“ What basis have you then for either your truths or 
your symbols ? ” 

“Which reminds me,” said Elwood, with a smile, 
“of certain honest minds who cannot believe that the 
earth is round until they know what it rests on.” 

“ All you can say about the earth,” said the Profes- 


274 


HENRY ELWOOD, 


sor, with slight disgust in his tone, “is that it rests on its 
relation to all the forces of the universe ! ” 

“ And what other basis do spiritual truths need? Is 
not the fact that they are adapted to man’s religious or 
spiritual nature the most conclusive evidence that can be 
given in their behalf? ” 

“ Do not heg the question so hastily, I pray you, my 
friend Elwood. If man has such a religious nature as 
you claim, you should be able to show that it is an entity, 
a force, a factor, something to which you can assign a 
place in the category of cause and effect.” 

“What I apprehend,” replied Elwood, “is that you 
will not acknowledge the functions of this religious nature, 
unless I can separate it from all other forces, both physi- 
cal and psychical, and this is impossible. Such a test 
would not be scientific, and I am equally certain it would 
not be religious.” 

“How then will you prove the functions of the reli- 
gious nature ? Where is your testimony to sustain your 
claim that these functions have any virtue or effect that we 
are bound to acknowledge? ” 

“ It is WITHIN, rather than without. If any one were 
to challenge the value of your scientific study, your ulti- 
mate answer would be, ‘ I knoiv what it is worth to me.’ 
So the human soul may be conscious of a vital relation to 
its y\uthor, even as we are conscious of the relation that 
our bodies sustain to the visible universe. This relation 
to Deity is the most certain thing in my consciousness. I 
believe — I know — that he is, because I am ; and I know 
that 1 am, because he is! ” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


POINT AND PURPOSE. 

Mina Gilbert’s baby is a year old ; and Fred Collins 
has lately returned to Excelsior and to his duties in his 
father’s store. 

Soon after the birth of the child three or four elders 
of the church had called upon their minister and stated 
that their wives felt that the church ought not to bear the 
reproach of having Mina’s name on the rolls of its mem- 
bership. After making the matter a subject of prayer and 
anxious consideration for several days, Elwood and Alice 
resolved to prevent her expulsion, if possible. To this 
end it was decided that she should call upon the wives of 
all the elders and plead Mina’s case before them, and that, 
preliminary to this, he should read the eighth chapter of 
St. John as a Scriptural lesson the next Sunday. 

It was a bold, strong course for them to take; but 
wisdom is justified of her children, and they succeeded. 

“ Prepare yourself for this office by humiliation and 
prayer,” she said to him, “but remember the word of the 
Lord to Joshua, ‘Be strong and of a good courage; be 
not afraid, neither be thou dismayed ; for the Lord thy 
God is with thee whithersoever thou goest. ’ ” 

“ Will not your task require much more courage than 
mine, Alice?” he answered. 

The noble spirit in which Elwood read the words of 
Christ when the woman taken in adultery was brought 
before him saved him from adverse criticism, and was not 


-276 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


without its favorable effect upon the women who had been 
concerned about Mina’s remaining in the church. 

Although Alice’s powers and resources were severely 
taxed, after her supreme and heroic effort, the Session 
were easily persuaded that the honor of the church did not 
require action to be taken against Mina, unless there should 
be something in her subsequent conduct to call for it. 

Elwood showed a like lenient disposition toward Fred 
Collins when he returned ; but, although the young man 
failed to recognize his obligations to the child he had 
begotten, or the girl who had given him her love anv:l con- 
dence, there was no call for his exclusion from the church 
or from society ; and so far as outward signs were con- 
cerned, the jokes and jibes of his companions were his only 
punishment. 

And shall Mina Gilbert find no compensation for her 
shame and reproach in the life that rests upon her bosom ? 
If she has sincerely repented of her sin, shall she hear no 
voice from heaven saying unto her, “Take this child and 
nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages ? ” 

Major Collins desired to make more liberal financial 
provision for the family ; but Alice thought that Mina 
should be rather encouraged to do something for herself, 
and advised her to take in millinery work and sewing. 

“Do you think the people wull bring me any? ” asked 
the girl. 

“Yes, Mina,” was the reply ; “if you will be patient 
and do your work well.” 

The work came in slowly, but it came steadily ; and 
gradually Mina’s self-respect began to come back to her, 
and a certain measure of peace and hopefulness was 
restored to her wounded spirit. 

Alice rejoiced in this, but w'as not satisfied. 

“The wrong has not been repaired — ^justice has not 


POINT AND PURPOSE. 


277 


been done to Mina yet,” she said to her husband, imme- 
diately after Fred’s return to the city. 

Fred resumed his place in her Sunday School class, 
and in the course of a month, she renewed the subject; 
“ Henry, I believe that both Major Collins and Fred feel 
that Mina has never received justice for the wrong she has 
suffered. ” 

“Mr. Collins has frequently said to me that money 
could not atone for the wrong done to Mina ; but what 
makes you think Fred feels so too ? ” he asked. 

“ I have only mentioned Mina’s name in his hearing 
once since he came back ; and his looks and color indi- 
cated to me, not only that he feels interested in her, but 
that his conscience is by no means quiet.” 

“Do you think I ought to talk to him about it, 
Alice ? ” 

“ It would seem that you ought to do so ; but, at the 
same time, I fear it would have no result.” 

“Isn’t it a duty I ought to discharge whatever the 
result may be ? ” 

She reflected a few minutes, and answered, “ Yes, I 
believe it is. 1 have never ceased to pray that justice may 
be done to Mina ; and it may be that in some way my 
prayers will be answered.” 

“ Does Mina ever speak of Fred, Alice? ” 

“Only occasionally; but, Henry, woman’s love is 
eternal ! — even when she is greatly wronged.” 

“At any rate, I shall talk to him at the first oppor- 
tunity ; although it is a case requiring considerable wisdom 
and discretion.” 

This conversation occurred in the forenoon ; and in 
the afternoon, as Elwood was returning from a visit to 
some families in “Egypt,” he was overtaken by Fred 
Collins, who was driving a fine-blooded horse hitched to a 
stylish and costly phaeton. Fred promptly halted and 


278 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


asked Elwood to ride ; and feeling considerable pride in 
the spirit and mettle of his steed, proposed a drive to the 
East End suburbs. When they reached the corporation 
line, the young man brought his horse to a walk, and, after 
preserving complete silence for some minutes, said, in an 
almost stammering manner: “Mr. Elwood, I should like 
to ask .some advice from you to day.” 

“ Very well, Fred,” was the prompt reply ; “ I should 
be happy to serve you in any waj' I can.” 

Thus encouraged, Fred proceeded, although in a very 
hesitating manner: “My father and mother are an.xious 
to have me marry Miss Higgins, daughter of Lawyer Hig- 
gins, who has recently become so rich. He is said to be 
a millionaire, and she is his only heir.” 

“Have you become acquainted with her, Fred?” 

“I have met her a few times, and she seems very 
willing to receive any attention I may offer her; but I don’t 
love her, and don’t want to marry her.” 

What Fred desired was something to stimulate him 
to more active resistance to his mother’s will ; but, instead 
of this, Elwood inquired : “ You say your father wants you 
to marry Miss Higgins?” 

“ He has never talked to me about it; but mother 
has a great many times ; and when he is present, he seems 
to agree with her.” 

“ Has she spoken to you about it very often in your 
father’s presence ? ” 

“Not very often; I can only remember one or two 
times ? ” 

“ Perhaps it would be well to consult your father 
when you are alone with him in the store, so you will 
clearly understand his wishes.” After Pdwood said this, 
there was a pause of several minutes. 

“ Is that all the advice you can give me on the sub- 
ject ? ” Fred at length asked. 


POINT AND PURPOSE. 


279 


“That is all I can think of just now, Fred.” 

Fhvood resolved not to let the opportunity pass with- 
out reminding Fred of his obligations to Mina Gilbert, and, 
without giving Uie young man any hint of his object, sug- 
gested a return by the street on which the Gilbert cottage 
was situated; and it so happened that Mina was just enter- 
ing the gate, with the baby in her arms, as they passed. 

“Did you notice Mina Gilbert, Fred?” asked 
Klwood, a few minutes before they reached the parsonage. 

“Yes, Mr. Klwood, and I have never felt rightabout 
the way I treated her , but there seemed to be no way to 
avoid it, and I guess there is no remedy now.” 

“Are you certain there is none, Fred ?” 

Klwood asked this question in a very serious manner, 
and with a direct look into Fred’s face, but the only reply 
he received was this: “ There is none that I can see.” 

“Mina is the girl you ought to marry, Fred — don’t 
you think so?” Fred made no reply to this, but the 
appeal crashed much deeper into his conscience than 
Klwood supposed, and when the latter alighted from the 
buggy, Fred remarked, in a choking voice : “I will never 
marry Miss Higgins, Mr. Klwood! ” 

“ It was about sunset when Klwood reached his home, 
and an hour or two afterward he received a message stat- 
ing that Fred Collins had been dangerously hurt, and 
requesting him to come to the Collins residence at once. 

The young man had attempted to cross a railroad 
track in front of a rapidly advancing train, with the result 
that the horse was instantly killed, and Fred was thrown 
violently to the ground, his head striking in such a man- 
ner as to produce a severe concussion of the brain ; and 
when Klwood reached his bedside, his mind was in a state 
of utter bewilderment and confusion. He scarcely recog- 
nized Klwood or Alice, but became much more composed 
soon after they entered the room. 


28U 


HENRY ELWOOi). 


A delirium of several days followed, during which his 
life trembled in the most delicate balance ; and the utmost 
skill of his physicians had to be exercised to save it. 

Long and frequent were the visits of -both Henry and 
Alice to Fred’s bedside while his delirium continued; for 
it was soon discovered that he was much more restless and 
excited during their absence than when either of them 
was present. 

To his mother’s great annoyance, he would frequently 
call “ Mina,” in a very plaintive manner — but it was a cry 
that she could not suppress ! 

“How delirious he is!” she said to Alice, in atone 
of severe mortification, as this cry was uttered once — and 
only once — in the latter’s presence. 

Alice made no reply in words ; but her look was so 
expressive, and yet so kind, that the eyelids of the proud 
woman drooped verj" low, and her cheeks mantled for 
shame. 

Fred at length began to convalesce, and again were 
Elwood and Alice overwhelmed with expressions of grati- 
tude. 

“If we could only do something for you! ” was the 
repeated expression of both Mr. and Mrs. Collins. 

And as Mrs. Collins grasped Alice’s hands, she 
exclaimed, very earnestly: “ Mrs. Elwood, Fred owes his 
life to your nursing and care — how can we ever repay you ? ” 


chaiti<:r xliv. 


TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. 

Elwood was seated in his study one morning soon 
after Fred’s recovery was assured, when he felt the touch 
of a soft hand upon his forehead and the sound of a very 
clear voice in his ear. 

“ Henry, I believe that God has given us a duty to 
perform for Mina Gilbert from which we ought not to 
shrink — don’t you think so?” 

“ Do you mean that we should urge Fred Collins to 
marry her in spite of his mother’s opposition ? ” 

“ Hardly that, Henry ; Fred is too feeble now to have 
his duty urged upon him in just that way, and it might do 
more harm than good. Besides, it would be much better 
for both him and Mina to secure Mrs. Collins’ consent, and 
that is what I want to do, if possible.” 

“ I know, Alice,” he answered, as he gave her a look 
of supreme admiration, “ how easy it is for you to per- 
suade people to do right; but I fear you will find this the 
hardest task of your life. Mrs. Collins’ strong will and 
family pride must both be overcome before she will yield ; 
but, on the othfr hand, she has often .said she would do 
anything that you might ask, and perhaps she would not 
refuse even this.” 

“ I don’t want to ask her to consent for my sake, 
Henry ; I want both Fred and her to see that he ought to 
keep his promise and become a real father to her child.” 

“I know that is the noble principle on which you 


*282 


HEXKY EL WOOD. 


have alwa}'s said we should teach and preach ; but I fear it 
will be very hard for you to apply it to Mrs. Collins, 
especially in reference to Fred’s marriage.” 

“Well, I shall first try to convince her that Fred 
ought to marry Mina ; and if that fails. I will claim her 
oft repeated promises to me. Nothing must be left 
undone to secure justice for Mina and her baby. I have 
prayed for strength and wisdom. 

“ When do you propose to see her, Alice ? ” he asked. 

“This afternoon, Henry. Fred goes out riding every 
afternoon, and he will not be at home, so I must improve 
the opportunity to see her. I wish you would see Mr. 
Collins some time during the day, and talk to him, so that 
when he comes home in the evening they will be ready to 
confer about it.” 

Klwood’s task was a very easy one. As soon as the 
•subject was introduced, Major Collins responded: “I 
was going to call on you this evening and ask your 
counsel. Fred spoke to me about it himself \ esterday, 
declaring that he still loved Mina Gilbert and would never 
marry an)* one else.” 

‘ ‘ 1 believe Fred is sincerel>- sorry for all the trouble 
he has caused her,” said El wood. 

“ I am certain he is; he had somehow gotten the idea 
that 1 wanted him to marry Law)’er Higgins’ daughter, 
but I assured him that I had nothing of the kind in mind. 
I did not express a final opinion as to what he ought to do 
in Mina’s case, as I wished to see \'Ou first; but 1 told him 
what I have often told you, that he had done Mina a wrong 
that no money could repair.” 

There was a pause of several minutes, during which 
Elwood wrestled with the question whether he should urge 
any further duty upon Collins or not ; and before he had 
come to a decision upon this point, the latter continued : 
“ I fear, Mr. Elwood, I have not done all that I ought to 


TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. 


283 


do about this matter. I will talk to Mrs. Collins to-night, 
and will come to see you and Mrs. Elwood about it 
to-morrow. ” 

It required a pretty severe struggle for him to come 
to the resolution to speak to Mrs. Collins on the subject, 
but he fully intended to do as he said. 

“ Mrs. Elwood is going to see Mrs. Collins this after- 
noon and urge her consent to Fred’s marrying Mina,” 
said Elwood. 

Collins’ face brightened for a moment or so at this 
announcement ; but he made no further remark, except to 
repeat that he would call at the parsonage the next day. 

Alice introduced her subject soon after being admitted 
to Mrs. Collins’ presence. “ You know, Mrs. Collins,” 
she said, “how much I have been interested in Mina Gil- 
bert.” 

“Indeed I do, Mrs. Elwood, and I hope she feels 
'very grateful to you for all you have done.” 

Mrs. Collins said this with perfect sincerity; but she 
was already a little nervous. 

“ Mrs. Collins, do )'’ou think everything has been 
done for Mina that ought to be done? ” 

There was a decided feeling of resentment in Mrs. 
Collins breast as she listened to this query — but the voice 
that she heard was the same voice that had prayed so 
earnestly for the life of her twins, and the eyes that were 
turned so steadily toward her were the eyes that had 
dropped so many tears upon their dead faces — and, as she 
remembered this, she answered, with the best grace she 
could : “I certainly don’t see how j'ou could do any more 
for her than you have done; and Joshua says he has 
wanted to give them more money than he has given them. 
If they need anything more, they shall have it — anything 
3'ou say ! ” 

“ It isn’t money that Mina needs, Mrs. Collins! ” 


284 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


‘ ‘ What then ? She cannot expect to be taken back 
into society ; she will have to suffer the consequences of 
her sin.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Collins,” Alice replied, in a tone of 
intense feeling that greatly annoyed her listener, “how 
much she has already suffered for it. And hasn’t she 
proved a true mother to her baby? ” 

“I believe she has ; at least I have heard no com- 
plaint against her since the baby was born, and 1 sincerely 
hope she will redeem herself.” 

“ Mrs. Collins, didn’t Fred promise to marry Mina?” 

“The mention of Fred’s name in connection with 
Mina’s well nigh provoked an outbreak of resentment ; but 
again Mrs. Collins remembered all that had been done for 
Lulu and Lucy, as well as the kindly offices for Fred dur- 
ing his recent affliction, and she answered very kindly, but 
with some warmth ; “I suppose he did ; but girls should 
learn not to trust the promises of young men whose sta- 
tion in life is so different from theirs.” 

“ Is not Fred the father of her child ? ” 

“ He has never denied that, I believe; although for 
some time I doubted whether he was.” 

These last answers were uttered in a very nervous 
manner, and with a manifest trembling of voice. Mrs. 
Collins’ words might seem almost defiant, but the clear 
voice and steady eye of her inquisitor were breaking her 
down. The strong woman has met one stronger than 
herself — what shall she do ? r 

Alice sincerely pitied her; but she thought of Mina 
and her baby, and rallied for a final effort. 

“ Mrs. Collins, if Fred is the father of Mina’s child, 
and if he solemnly promised to marry her, do you not 
think he ought to fulfill his promise and repair the wrong 
he has done her ? ” 

Had the little woman’s steady eye failed her for a sin- 


TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. 


285 - 


gle moment, or had the light on her face paled in the 
slightest degree, her cause might have been lost. Mrs, 
Collins actually looked around in search of some means of 
escape — but could find none. She must either surrender, 
or sorely wound the friend who had done so much for 
her and hers. The appeal for justice must either be 
granted or refused ; and she could not rise from her 
chair until the question was decided ! 

And that tender, yet seai'ching appeal to her own 
conscience — could she give a base answer to that ? 

The struggle was a severe one; her bosom heaved, 
and her face burned with intensest feeling ; but at length 
she said, in an almost appealing tone : “ Mrs. Elwood, do 
you think he ought to do so?” And, still hoping for 
escape : “ If you were in my place, would you consent to 
such a marriage ? ” 

“ I have thought Fred ought to marry her from the 
day she came to my house and told me her trouble,” was 
the calm reply; “and his duty would be the same, if he 
were my son instead of yours.” 

“ Mrs. Klwood, I have always said that no request of 
yours should ever be refused.” 

“ I am not asking this on my own account, Mrs. Col- 
lins, but because Fred ought to keep his promise to Mina, 
and because the child is his as well as hers.” 

“But the disgrace, Mrs. Klwood?” 

“ Fred ought to do what is right, regardless of con- 
sequences; but, Mrs. Collins, there will be no such ‘dis- 
grace ’ as you fear. Fred will be respected for doing jus- 
tice to Mina ; and I believe that in spite of all that has 
occurred they love each other still, and that, if they were 
married, they would live together very happily.” 

“ Perhaps P'red ought ” — here Mrs. Collins’ voice fal- 
tered, but she presently continued; “Mrs. Elwood, you 
have been such a friend to us, that no request of yours- 


286 


HENRY ELWOOl). 


■can be refused ; and I am sure you would not ask us to do 
.anything that is not right. We will talk the matter over 
this evening, and if Fred still wishes to marry Mina, and 
his father is willing, I will give him my consent.” 

If Mrs. Collins had any sense of humiliation over this 
yielding to Alice’s wishes, it was wholly removed by the 
latter’s warm kiss and hearty thanks. 

And with tears of unfeigned joy in her eyes, she said 
.as she took her leave: “Mrs. Collins, you must never 
speak again of any obligations you are under to Mr. 
Elwood or to me. When I'red marries Mina Gilbert, they 
will all be discharged many times over ! ” 

A few weeks afterward there was a quiet wedding in 
Alice Elwood’s parlor; and then she thanked God, not 
because she had won so great a triumph, but because Mina 
Gilbert’s wrong was repaired by a happy marriage with 
the lover of her childhood. 


CHAPTER XLV. 


ADVICE AND ADMONITION. 

Time moves on, and another bab\' boy (now two 
years old) has crowned the union of Henry and Alice 
Elwood — another “image of his mother,” only the eyes 
were a shade lighter and the features a little more delicate 
than those of his brother Carl, who was four years older. 

No pressure of other duties ever caused Alice to neg- 
lect the caressing and fondling of her children, as well as 
the more strictly necessary attention that they required ; 
•and in their responses to her manifestations of maternal 
sympathy, she found a well-spring of joy unutterable. 

“We must never fret at them or scold them,” she 
said to her husband, “they are too precious for that. 
We must require them to obey us promptly in all things ; 
but should we not teach them this lesson, so they will love 
to obey us? And whatever punishment we inflict upon 
them — if it should ever be necessary for us to punish them 
directly(?) — ought we not to administer it with perfect 
good temper and in sincerest love?” 

And as a reward of this faithful discipline of herself as 
well as her children, they rejoiced in her presence as in 
the sunlight, and her gentlest word secured the prompt- 
est and most willing obedience always and everywhere. 

But notwithstanding this supreme domestic bliss, and 
the ever-increasing attachment of his people, Pdwood’s 
ministerial life was far from being in all respects a bed of 


roses. 


288 


HEXKY ELWOOD. 


If his larger interpretation of the doctrines of his 
church had been satisfactory to his own conscience, the)' 
were by no means satisfactory to all his ministerial breth- 
ren. As the old house or other building must be torn 
down before a new one can be erected on its site, so he 
often found it necessary, in order to present the more spir- 
itual meaning of both the creed and the Scripture, ta 
reject the literal meaning. 

Of course, all preachers must do this, more or less; 
but no earnest defender of the faith is ever pleased to see 
other men exercising more liberty in this respect than he 
claims for himself ! 

In both philosophy and theology, it is very natural for 
every one to feel that beyond his orbit all is chaos and con- 
fusion. 

It was at least a thing to be expected, that some mem- 
bers of Excelsior Presbytery should be seriously con- 
cerned about the heterodox character of Elwood’s preach- 
ing. And a striking peculiarity of most of their criticisms 
was, that they did not represent him as preaching what was 
false, or even unscriptural, so much as preaching contrary 
to the doctrines of the Presbyterian church ! As Elwood’s 
own conscience had been severely exercised upon this 
point for several years, his sensitiveness in reference to it 
may be easily imagined. 

The sharp arrows struck the weakest joints of his 
armorf and sometimes pierced him to the quick ! 

At first the cloud was only the size of a man’s hand ; 
but for the last two or three years it had been graduall)' 
increasing and growing a little darker. Elwood had as lit- 
tle concern for his personal interests as any man could be 
expected to have in his situation ; but these strictures of 
his ministerial brethren, involving as they did an issue of 
personal honor, had brought him to a more serious con- 


ADVICE AND ADMONITION. 


28 y 


sideration of his right to occupy a Presbyterian pulpit than 
had occupied his mind in all previous years. 

Hut whenever he felt that he must withdraw from the 
Presbyterian church because he could no longer endure the 
least intimation of unfaithfulness to her creed, the eager 
and expectant faces of his congregation rose up before 
him, and he could almost hear them crying to him for the 
bread of life. And those increasing appeals for his sym- 
pathy, his counsel, his help — could he turn his back on 
these ? 

If Elwood had stood alone, his keen sense of honor”' 
and his desire to avoid all misunderstanding and contro- 
versy might ere this have caused his transfer to the Con- 
gregational communion, as he was quietly advised that a 
number of Congregational churches in the state were ready 
to call for his services as soon as he might signify a readi-j 
ness to change his ecclesiastical relations. 

But he was not alone ! 

“ I will follow you wherever you go in preaching the 
gospel of the kingdom,” said the devoted Alice; “ but O, 
Henry, these people love you so, and are so anxious to 
hear you preach every Sunday, how could you grieve and 
•disappoint them by resigning?” 

“ But, Alice, a preacher’s honor must be above 
reproach ! ” 

“And yours is,” she replied, very earnestly, “only 
the Lord has seen fit to chasten you that you may serve 
him more acceptably. And you are doing more and more 
for his cause, Henry ! ” 

But this was not the opinion of a very large portion 
(perhaps a majority) of ‘the ministers of Excelsior Presby- 
tery ; and during one of its recent sessions, although no 
one sought to bring Elwood’s case before the body, there 
was a large amount of private consultation in regard to it — 
some of which came to Elwood’s ears and some did not — 


290 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


and soon after the adjournment, Dr. Princeton and Dr. 
Wilson waited upon him and told him, that after an infor- 
mal conference with several other members of the Presby- 
tery, both lay and clerical, they felt it to be their duty, as 
servants of the Divine Master, to admonish him that he 
was preaching in such a way as to awaken the most serious 
apprehension in their minds concerning his orthodoxy and 
his faithfulness to his ordination vows. 

The day after Elwoods’s return from the meeting of 
his Presbytery, he had a long conversation with Alice upon 
the subject. 

“These brethren,” he said, “are ministers of large 
experience, particularly Dr. Princeton, and are influenced 
by the purest motives. They have not spoken to me in 
this way without the gravest consideration and perhaps the 
most earnest prayer — and they represent a great many 
besides themselves. Does not this make my duty very 
clear? I can not stay in the Presbyterian church without 
suppressing my thought and my speech, or becoming a 
disturber. Can 1 hope to be useful when my people learn 
that I am suspected of serious error in respect to the doc- 
trines of the church, even if I .should never be brought to 
trial ? There are other churches where I can enjoy all the 
liberty I desire, and where I will not offend the consciences 
of my professional brethren. It certainly seems to me, I 
ought to go to one of these, Alice.” 

He spoke with such earnestness and determination, 
and she herself saw the gravity of the situation so clearly, 
that she was at a loss for an answer for several minutes. 
But her woman’s wit did not fail her in the crisis, and, 
after due reflection, she said to him : “ Henry, 1 know how 
seriously all this affects you, and how anxious you are to 
take the right course ; and much as I love our church, I 
can not ask you to remain its pastor after you are fidly 
satisfied that you ought to withdraw from its pulpit but 


ADVICE AND ADMONITIOX. 


201 


will you make me one promise ? — you will not resign until 
you have taken counsel with all your elders and a number 
of your confidential friends? ” 

While she was saying this, the door-bell rang ; and,, 
without waiting to answer her, Elwood went to the door, 
and in a moment Major Collins and Deacon Simpkinson 
were ushered into the room. 

“We were just driving by,” said Collins, as soon as 
they were seated, “ and stopped to notify you, Mr. Elwood, 
that the trustees and members of the session had an infor- 
mal consultation in my office this morning, and we all 
thought the time has come to enlarge our church, as it i.s- 
so hard to find seats for all who attend our services, and 
we would like to have you call a special meeting after the 
prayer-meeting next Wednesday night to consider the 
matter ard form plans for carrying the project into execu- 
tion. We ought to have at least twice the seating capacity 
we Jiow have — don’t \'ou think so. Deacon Simpkinson? ” 

“ It’s astonishing how many people are attending our 
church,” said Simpkinson, in reply; “and the constant 
increase in membership ought to make us all thankful that 
our minister’s labors have been so abundantly blessed. 
Several of my tenants have expressed a wish to unite with 
us, and I urged them to do so at our next communion.’' 

“ Those are some fine houses you have built lately,’' 
said Collins, “ quite an improvement on the old ones.” 

‘ ‘ Yes, I have found it much better to put up comforta- 
ble and substantial buildings, and not charge too much 
rent for them. Mrs. Simpkin.son says we will enjoy life 
more in this way, even if we don’t make as much money. 
I don’t claim, however, to have gotten over my worldly- 
mindedness. It’s a constant b?ittle — it’s a constant battle 
— but I hope I shall get to heaven at last.” Then turning 
to Elwood, he continued: “ I am very much interested in 
this proposal for enlarging our church, and will contribute 


HEXKY ELWOOI). 


whatever amount may be necessary to insure its success. 
Mrs. Simpkinson says we ought to do everything we can to 
oncourage you and Mrs. Elwood in \ our labors among us.” 

And with a few more expressions of their interest in 
the enlargement of the church and of their desire to ac- 
commodate as many people as might want to hear Elwood’s 
preaching, the two men withdrew, repeating their request 
for a special meeting the next Wednesday night. 

Alice’s heart rose in high triumph during this inter 
view, but soon after they were gone, Henry reminded her 
that he had requested Dr. Princeton and Dr. Wilson to 
call upon him the next evening for an explanation of his 
views. ” 

“This will be a severe ordeal for you, Henry,” she 
responded, “but I know you will be equal to it. They are 
both strong men, but you must be stronger than they are. ” 

“Stronger than both of them ? ” 

“You don’t know yet how far both of them may be 
against you, Henry. I have never heard Dr. Princeton 
preach, but I heard Dr. Wilson once, and ” — she added, 
with a little archness — “1 also heard him express his 
opinion of your preaching ! ” 

“He is thoroughly in earnest in this matter, Alice, 
and really fears I am departing from true orthodoxy.” 

“ I have no doubt of that, but wait till you meet him, 
and then you will see whether he wants to burn you for 
heresy or not,” she quietly answered. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


CONFERENCE AND CONSULTATION. 

Just before the two divines reached P^lwood’s house 
they discussed the question which of them should first 
introduce the subject to him, and to what points of 
departure from sound doctrine they should first direct his 
attention ; but they could come to no definite conclusion as 
to the modus operandi that would be most advisable. 

To their great surprise, very soon after they were 
received by Elwood and Alice and were comfortably 
seated in the parlor, he thus addressed them : “ Brethren, 
I have long desired just such an interview as this, as I seri- 
iously feel the need of counsel from those who are older in 
the ministry than myself. The demands of my pulpit in 
this city have caused me to read a great many books and 
to do a large amount of independent thinking. These 
mental processes have raised a great many questions and 
doubts in my mind, some of which I have solved and some I 
have not. I frankly confess that on some points of the 
Confession of P'aith I am in such a state of mind, that I 
have doubted my right to remain in the ministry of the 
Presbyterian church ; but I can truly say, that thus far I 
have acted in good conscience and have constantly sought 
the divine direction ; but it has never been possible for me 
to determine just how much freedom of thought and lati- 
tude of interpretation are consistent with the vows of a 
Presbyterian minister. If you can give me any light on 
this subject, it will be gratefully received.” 


294 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


Dr. Princeton was first to reply : “ We did not expect 
to have the matter presented to us in this way, but since 
you have so presented it, it seems to me the case is quite 
clear. If you hold views essentially contrary to the Con- 
fession of Faith, which I trust is not the case, you can not 
consistently remain in the ministry of the Presbyterian 
church. I would feel bound to say this to you, much as I 
should regret the necessity of your withdrawing from our 
church.” 

After some reflection. Dr. Wilson at length spoke : 
“We have come for a friendly conference, Mr. Pilwood, 
not with the expectation of trying you for heresy. Unless 
your departure from the doctrines of the Confession is 
essential, I would not advise you to withdraw from our 
church, while vour ministry is as useful as it now appears 
to be. But what are the doubts and questions of which 
you speak ? ” 

At considerable length, Elwood stated his views in 
reference to nearly all the leading doctrines of the Confes- 
sion of P'aith, giving the reason for all his conclusions, and 
replying to all their questions with marked frankness and 
clearness. 

On some points they confessed that he was more 
orthodox than they expected to find him ; but they were 
both “greatly surprised,” and Dr. Princeton was 
“ shocked,” at some uf his utterances, especially in refer- 
ence to the “ inerrancy ” of the Scriptures, which Elwood 
frankly said he could no longer believe, in view of all the 
errors that had been shown to exist in both the Old and 
New Testaments, 

Nearly two hours were spent in this way, all the men 
admiring the quiet ease and grace with which Alice lis- 
tened to the discussion, and the interest she manifested in 
all that was said ; and when it was concluded, Pilwood 
again asked for whatever counsel they could give him. 


CONFERENCE AND CONSULTATION. ^20--) 

Noticing an embarrassed look on Dr. Princeton’s face, 
Alice withdrew from the room, and then he spoke; 

“ Mr. Ehvood, as you have requested our counsel 
about your proper course, I will give you mine frankly 
and faithfully. Highly as I respect your Christian charac- 
ter, I feel bound to say to you, that while you hold your 
present views in reference to the ‘ inerrancy ’ of the Bible, 
and have such peculiar ideas concerning the Trinity and 
the Atonement, you cannot consistently remain in the 
ministry of the Presbyterian church. Admitting all that 
may be claimed about the right of a man to hold and 
express his own opinions, yet as a minister you have .sol- 
emnly given your subscription to the Confession of Faith, 
and you should adhere to that subscription as long as you 
occupy a Presbyterian pulpit.” Then, after a few minutes’ 
reflection, during which he looked at Ehvood very kindly 
and earnestly, Ur. Princeton continued : “Perhaps your 
views on these points are not final, and the Lord may yet 
show you wherein you are in error. I would suggest that 
you make the whole matter a subject of anxious prayer .for 
several days before taking final action.” 

Dr. Wilson being also pressed for his counsel, replied ; 
“ Many of your views seem very peculiar to me, and some 
of them are very far from strict orthodoxy as I understand 
it. I can not tell you how much freedom or range a Pres- 
byterian minister may lawfully claim ; for I have been very 
much perplexed with that question myself, although by no 
means to the extent that you have ; but I can safely repeat 
Dr. Princeton’s counsel to pray very earnestly over the 
matter before taking final action or withdrawing from the 
Presbyterian church.” 

In a few minutes after they had both concluded, Alice 
re entered the room, and noticing that the conversation 
had taken a more general turn, she took a chair, and by a 
few kindly questions to her hirsband’s visitors, drew from 


HEXKY ELW()OI>. 


•J9(i 

each of them a quite interesting account of his work and 
ministry, which considerably diverted their minds from the 
more serious errand on which they had come. 

Her friendship was genuine, and her sympathy sin- 
cere and hearty ; but she was not unwilling to entertain 
them in this manner, and they justly felt honored by her 
lively interest in every thing pertaining to their labors as 
ministers of Christ. 

And was she not serving the cause of Christ as well 
as her husband’s cause by this exercise of her conversa- 
tional gifts ? 

After they were gone — not without receiving frorh 
her a cordial invitation to visit the city at some future time 
with their wives — she said to Elwood, a little playfully : 
“You will not resign your pastorate till they get the 
church enlarged, will you?” 

“Suppose they bring charges against me before the 
Presbytery ? ” 

“Neither of them will do that, in my opinion. Henry.” 

“ Why not, Alice ? ” 

“They have too much sympathy with your views — 
at least Dr. Wilson has — and Dr. Princeton, much as he 
deplores your ‘ errors, ’ would be very reluctant to prose- 
cute you for them before the Presbytery, except from the 
most serious sense of duty.” 

The two ministers had a long consultation together 
before separating for a return to their respective homes. 

“ Such views as Elwood avows show a peculiarly dan- 
gerous tendency,” said Dr. Princeton, very gravely. “I 
admire his excellence of character and integrity of pur- 
pose ; but these will not prevent the evil influence of his 
errors, so far as they may be spread among his people.” 

“ I have talked to some of his elders and members 
since I came to the city,” replied Dr. Wilson, “ and none 


CONFERENCE ANO CONSULTATION. 2!»7 

of them complained about any false doctrine that he 
preached.” 

“That only proves how dangerous such preaching is; 
it undermines the faith of the people before they are aware 
of it. It almost appears to me that Presbytery should 
take some action in reference to his preaching.” 

“Which of his heresies would you most condemn, 
Dr. Princeton?” 

“ That would be a rather difficult question to answer ; 
for it is not so much an erroneous view of this or that 
tenet that I deplore in him as the general tone in which he 
speaks of our Calvinistic system of doctrine, and the free- 
dom of interpretation which he claims for every article of 
the Confession of Faith. On the other hand, he has built 
up his church in a wonderful manner, and his people are 
very much attached to him — didn’t Mrs. Elwood say to us 
that there was to be a meeting next Wednesday night to 
form some plans for enlarging the church ? — and if Pre.sby- 
tery should take any action against him, no one can pre- 
dict what would be the result.” 

“ He certainly has a great man}- views that I consider 
unsound,” .said Dr. Wilson, in response, “but how finely 
he reasons, and how clear and concise were all his state- 
ments. His theory that the Bible should be studied 
indticiivcly rather than deductively, seemed to me vej}- 
suggestive, as well as his declaration that the church mu.st 
keep pace with the progress of the age and the various 
evolutions of civilization. I confess I also admired some 
of his statements in reference to Total Depravity, the 
Trinity and the Atonement, heterodox as his views appear 
to be on these and some other points.” 

“Ah, Dr. Wilson, these fine phrases that he uses 
contain a latent heresy that we as defenders of sound doc- 
trine would do well to watch very closely. German 
Rationalism has at last reached even our theological semi- 


298 


HENIiY ELWOOI). 


naries ; and some of our professors are teaching not only 
that verbal errors have occurred in transcribing the Scrip- 
tures, but that the original manuscripts may not have been 
free from error, as they were written in human language 
and by finite men. If hdwood were to be elected to a pro- 
fessorship in any of our seminaries, I should advocate the 
disapproval of such a choice by the General Assembly, on 
account of the effect of his teaching on theological stu- 
dents ; but, as I said to you, I am not clear whether any 
action should be taken in reference to his preaching ; not 
only on account of the peculiar attachment his church has 
for him, but because I know not how much sympathy 
there may be with his views among the ministers and 
elders of our Presbytery, and also because it is very hard 
to draw any dividing line between orthodoxy and hetero- 
dox}' at the present day. At any' rate, I shall not consider 
it my duty to bring his case before our Presbytery, unless 
his errors should become more serious in their effects than 
they now appear to be.” 

“And I feel the same way,” responded Dr. Wilson. 


chaptp:r xlvii. 


LIGHT AND LIBERTY. 

As soon as the plan for enlarging Elvvood’s church 
was determined on, the work was prosecuted with a vigor 
and enthusiasm that greatly surprised him. 

Deacon Simpkinson was put at the head of the com- 
mittee to canvass for subscriptions ; and as his own name 
headed the list for a much larger sum than any one expected 
him to give, his example was a decided stimulus to others; 
and he himself felt greatly rewarded for his liberality by 
the commendations of those he called on. 

After spending considerable time in canvassing among 
the members, he happened to pass Gibbert’s store, and 
remembering that he had occasionally seen its proprietor 
at church, he stopped to solicit his subscription. 

“Certainly, certainly,” said Gibbert, as soon as the 
subject was presented to him, “ how much do you want 
-from me?” 

“ Well, any amount you may feel like giving — 
according to your means — as the Lord has prospered you.” 

“The Lord hasn’t prospered me so far as I know in 
the least, Mr. Simpkinson ; on the contrary, I have had to 
work like the d — 1 for every thing I get ; but I am so much 
interested in this enterprise that I will give as much in 
proportion to my means as you have given ! ” 

“That seems quite reasonable,” said Simpkinson, 
■* ‘ and I am very glad that you appreciate the value of the 
gospel so highly.” 


300 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


“Never mind about ‘the value of the gospel/ Mr. 
Simpkinson — it is no particular value to me, I am very cer 
tain — but I am ready to do as I said. How much have 
you subscribed ? ” 

“One thousand dollars ! ” replied Simpkinson, with 
an air of triumph. 

“Very well,” said Gibbert, “you are reported in 
commercial circles to be worth about a million dollars, but 
I won’t stop to inquire about that. Let us, to be safe, 
divide it by two and call it half that amount, five hundred 
thousand. Now, as I am not worth over five hundred 
dollars at the utmost, and, since you have been .«o liberal 
as to subscribe one thousand dollars, here is my propor- 
tion ” — throwing down a silver dollar on the table — “and 
I hope it will do you all much good.” 

Simpkinson was very much nonplused, and hesitated 
about taking the dollar ; but not wishing to offend Gibbert 
by refusing it, finally placed it in the purse with other 
sums he had collected during the day, and took his depar- 
ture. 

He had never encountered such an argiiincntinn ad 
homineni before, and he found in it abundant “food for 
reflection.” 

On looking through the list of subscribers when he 
reached his home in the evening, he was greatly surprised 
to find, that, so far as he could estimate their means, his 
proportion was the smallest of all ; and when he stated this 
fact to his wife, she urged him to double his subscription, 
which he did the next day. 

When the enlarged building was nearly ready for dedi- 
cation, Dr. Wilson was selected to preach the sermon for 
the occasion ; and a few weeks previous to the date of the 
exercises, he received an invitation from Elwood and Alice 
to bring his wife and two children and stay with them over 


]>IGHT AND LIBERTY. 


3 ( 1 1 

Sunday, and as many days during the week following as- 
they could arrange to spend in Excelsior. 

They arrived in the forenoon on Saturday, and long 
before the dawn of evening, Mrs. Wilson and her two little 
girls, aged six and three years respectively, felt entirely at 
home in the genial atmosphere of the Elwood parsonage. 

And what a glorious frolic the four children had that 
afternoon ! 

In the evening, as they were all seated in the sitting- 
room, discussing various topics of interest. Doctor Wilson 
turned toward Elwood and said : 

“ My dear friend, the question that you raised during, 
my recent interview with you in connection with Dr. 
Princeton is one that has occupied my mind for several 
years ; and it is still impossible for me to come to a final 
conclusion in reference to it. I wish I knew just how much- 
liberty of thought a Presbyterian minister in this age of 
the world ought to claim for himself — perhaps you could 
give me the benefit of your experience in reference to it.” 

“The question has been on my mind, too, for several 
years,” Elwood modestly replied, “ but a complete and 
definite solution of the problem seems as far off as ever.” 

“ But we j/n/s^ solve it, must we not?” inquired Dr. 
Wilson, quite earnestly. 

“We must at least exercise our minds upon it,” 
Elwood responded, slowly. 

“ But that is a very painful process — at least I have 
found it so. ” 

“ So we find the exercise of our judgment and reason 
in the administrative part of our work sometimes painful^ 
do we not? ” 

As Elwood said this, he noticed that Mrs. Wilson’s 
face was brightening with interest, and she gave her hus- 
band a very sympathetic and encouraging look. 

“My wife has often told me,” said Dr. Wilson, 


•302 


HENRY ELWUUD. 


“ that perhaps I need this very exercise of mind and con- 
■science.” 

Mrs. Wilson’s face colored at this ; but one bright 
glance of sympathy and approval from Alice restored her 
ease and self-possession. 

“ You can surely give me the benefit of your expe- 
rience,” repeated Dr. Wilson. 

“I have at least found out that it is a life-long 
problem.” 

‘ ‘ Never to be solved ? ” 

“It is certainly something more than a sum in Arith- 
metic or a theorem in Geometry, Dr. Wilson. It requires 
our highest and best faculties, and I do not believe that 
any one can give us a rule or formula for its solution.” 

“ Must we be forever learning, and yet be unable to 
-come to a knowledge of the truth ? ” inquired Dr. Wilson, 
in a discouraged tone. 

“ I would rather say that we can constantly get more 
light upon it, if we pray for it.” 

Again Mrs. Wilson looked at her husband sympa- 
thetically. 

“ I hav'e prayed most earnestly, ” he responded, “ and 
I believe the Lord has heard and answered my prayers in 
■some measure ; and my wife assures me ” — there was only 
-a little color in Mrs. Wilson’s face this time — “that if I 
■continue to seek light, it will be given to me as I need it.” 

[Why was it, that notwithstanding the high enjoyment 
■and perfect freedom of the children while this conversation 
was going on, they made not the slightest annoyance or 
•disturbance? — it was only occasionally that Alice turned 
Jier attention toward them, and showed her interest in 
their plays.] 

“I believe that God has given me some light, too,” 
said Elwood ; “but I have had to employ my utmost 


LIGHT AND LIBERTY. 


303 


powers of mind and conscience in determining what course 
I ought to pursue.” 

“You can surely tell what a Presbyterian minister 
ought to do when he no longer believes the Confession of 
Faith, can you not?” asked Dr. Wilson. 

“I suppose,” replied Elwood, thoughtfully, “that if 
any minister disbelieves the Confession, or any essential 
part of it, in toto, he ought to withdraw from the Presby- 
terian church ; but between such a position aud the literal 
acceptance of its every article and section, there is a very 
wide middle-ground — how wide I would not undertake 
to say.” 

“ Then we are to determine for ourselves how much 
of the Confession we may believe, and how much we may 
■disbelieve ? ” 

“ I would hardly put it that way ; but we are to exer- 
cise our own consciences upon that question, and act 
according to the light that is given us ; always recognizing 
the right of our Presbytery to call us to account if we 
become transgressors or disturbers. But, Dr. Wilson, in 
connection with this question of believing certain doctrines, 
may we not very properly ask how we are required to 
believe in order to be true to our^subscription ?” 

“ I do not quite understand you.” 

“ Must we believe every doctrine in its most literal 
sense, or shall we consider these various doctrines of the 
Confession as embodiments of truth in the imperfect lan- 
guage of men, and therefore subject to constant analysis 
and interpretation?” 

“ W'e must certainly interpret them to a great extent, ” 
said Doctor Wilson, “ but when we go so far as to reject 
the literal meaning of any portion of the Confession, can 
we, in good conscience, still claim to believe it? Are we 
not in great danger here of merely playing on words — of 


304 


HENRY KLWOOD. 


lowering our own standard of truth and honor, and also of 
deceiving others ? ” 

“ That all depends, I think, on the spirit by which we 
are actuated. In teaching your children you may tell 
them that the sun rises in the east, although you know 
such is not literally the case ; but if you were trying to 
deceive them, your words would be base. It is our pur- 
pose — our ideal — that we should watch rather than our lan- 
guage, although language is very important. We must 
be loyal to the creed of our church, but we must also be 
loyal to the truth. We must remember our ordination 
vows ; but we must also remember our obligation to receive 
the light and to bear witness to the light. We must dis- 
till the doctrines in the laboratory of our Reason, (I use 
the term in its most comprehensive sense), before we can 
preach the vital truth that they contain.” 

“Is there any real conflict of duty in all this, Mr. 
Elwood ? ” 

“ I presume not ; but there is a seeming conflict, and 
we must, at least, be called to choose between the lower 
duty and the higher— should not the higher duty in all 
cases be preferred?” 

“ But when we assume such a function as this, is there 
not great danger of our becoming proud and presump- 
tuous, and thereby unfitting ourselves for our sacred 
office ? ” 

“ That objection would lie against every function we 
may exercise. Dr. Wilson. In this, as in every thing else, 
we should constantly seek to be ‘ converted ’ and to become 
as little children ; but our personality is even more impor 
tant than that of teachers. Hence, every preacher should 
possess a living soul, and should interpret all doctrines in 
the fear of God, and in the light of their relation to all 
truth. \l( our business is to quicken the spiritual life of 
our people, we need to be ourselves quickened by the 


LIGHT AND LIBERTY. 


305 


Spirit of the Lord ; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, 
there is liberty ! I do not object to the infallibility of the 
Pope because he is a bad man, or to the infallibility of the 
Catholic church because it is a bad institution ; but because 
to recognize the infallibility of either would do violence to 
my reason, and deprive me of many individual functions 
which it is both my privilege and duty to exercise. Our 
Confession of Faith, when first framed, was very largely 
an assertion of individual liberty and a protest against 
authority ; and to make it a means of binding men’s con- 
sciences and restricting their thought — which we are apt 
to do when we interpret it too literally — is not only to 
misunderstand it, but to pervert its meaning and object.” 

“ Do men claim this freedom in other walks of life ? ” 
said Dr. Wilson; “rather, are they not surrounded with 
the most rigid limitations in every business or profession 
in w'hich they may engage ? ” 

“ Limitations and restrictions are certainly to be found 
everywhere ; but on the other hand, in all vocations, from 
the very highest to the very lowest, the personalit}- of the 
workman is a factor of more or less importance. We 
have a written Constitution and written laws ; but we also 
need a President and other executive officers with honest 
hearts and clear heads. There are many established rules 
of war ; but the genius of commanders frequently wins 
victories by disregarding and rising above all these. In 
merchandise, in the mechanical arts, and even in the 
simplest forms of manual labor, some individual discretion 
is necessary ; and the higher and more complex the func- 
tion that is exercised, the wider must be the range of 
this discretion.” 

“ While I admit the force of all you say, I would yet 
fear,” said Dr. Wilson, very thoughtfully, “that if all our 
preachers claimed as large a measure of freedom as you 
claim for them, there would be an end to all church order 


306 


HEXRY ELWOOD. 


and discipline, and that thus you would defeat the 
very object you have in view. Have you thought 
of that? ” 

“ My reply to that would be, Dr. Wilson, that the 
order of the solar system is secured by permitting each 
planet to move in its own orbit, only requiring it to obey 
the force that secures its proper relation to the cen- 
tral sun. If our preachers are ever loyal to the prin- 
ciples and teachings of the Christ, the more liberty 
they may enjoy, and the higher will be the quality of 
their preaching.” 

“But are we not under obligation to our co-presby- 
ters to be very faithful to the doctrines which are the bond 
of union between us? Are we not bound to interpret 
these doctrines as they do — substantially?” 

“Our obligation to them, I should rather say, is one 
of good faith, sincere purpose and devotion to truth. 
They have a right to ask all these things of us ; but they 
have no right to bind our consciences or restrict our 
vision. When the Lord speaks to us, we must obey his 
voice, rather than the voice of man. The church order 
and organization belongs to those who give the wider and 
more liberal interpretation to the creeds and formulas, as 
well as to those who construe them more literally. Was 
not President Lincoln most loyal and patriotic when he 
said, in effect, that it might be necessary for him to act 
contrary to the letter of the Constitution in order to save 
the life of the nation ?” 

But will not the laity lose confidence in us, 
if— to use your figure — we seek too wide an orbit for 
ourselves?” 

“Not if we trust them and let them know 
that we are earnest seekers of light and truth, and that 
the liberty we desire is the liberty to preach the truth 
to them ! ” 


LIGHT AND LIBERTY. 


WT 

After her company were gone, Alice wrote to her 
father : 

Excelsior, October 1. 188-. 

My Dear Father : 

Oiir new church— we call it new because it has been enlarged 
to more than twice its former seating capacity— was dedicated last 
Sunday, and now we hope that all who wish to attend our services- 
can do so without any one’s having to stand. The acoustic prop- 
erties of the room are so good, and Henry’s voice is so clear, that 
he can be distinctly heard by every one, and I have good reason to- 
believe that all who hear him are edified and profited by hi& 
preaching. 

I am certain that the severe discipline of mind and conscience 
he has undergone on account of his theological views, and the crit- 
icisms of his ministerial brethren, have made his preaching more- 
spiritual as well as more eloquent. He is not yet entirely free 
from all questions concerning his faithfulne.ss to his ordination- 
vows, but he has at least learned that lie is not bound to leave the- 
Presbyterian church, merely because he takes a larger, and, as I 
tell him, a more spiritual view of its doctrines than he did when- 
he was ordained. 

He has been told during the past few years by a very large 
number of both men and women that his manner of presenting 
the truths of Christianity has saved them from skepticism andi 
unbelief, and enabled them to see very clearly that there is no r°al; 
conflict between faith and reason, or between science and religion.. 

But the most encouraging testimony has been from the poor 
and hard-working people in the church who have expressed their 
appreciation of his preaching, and have so often told both him and 
me how valuable his sympathy and counsel have been in helping^ 
them to bear their burdens and maintain their families. 

Clara Martin continues instant in every good work among the 
poor and the outcast of the city. None are too low and degraded 
for her interest and attention, and her efforts to rescue and save 
the fallen have been attended with the most wonderful success. 

And she counts it such a privilege to labor as she does ; indeed, 
she has often said to me that in this privilege she has found abun- 
dant compensation for all she has suffered ! 

She and Dr. Vernon have often met at the bedsides of the 
sick, especially among the poorer classes, and have learned to 
appreciate each other’s character very highly, although there 
seems to be little or no sign of a renewal of their engagement. 
There was always something about their separation that I could 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


:;<08 

not understand — it seemed so necessary, and yet so unnecessary ! 
Although they have been estranged for so many years, how happy 
•they might make each other yet, if their former affection were 
renewed. 

Harry Howard, the New York boy, in whom Henry became so 
imuch interested while he was pursuing his theological studies, 
and of whom you have often heard him speak, after having grad- 
uated at College, has lately completed his three years’ 

course at Union Seminary, and has been licensed and ordained 
to preach. He is temporarily supplying the pulpit of the Presby- 
terian church at Geneva, some twenty-ffve miles from Excelsior ; 
and Henry thinks from the manner in which they speak of his 
preaching, that they will certainly desire his services as their per- 
manent pastor. Henry feels an intense interest in the young man’s 
ministry on account of the affection he had for him when he 
was a child, and also because his talents are so promising. 

Our high congratulations to VIr. and Mrs. Allison over the 
ii>irth of the daughter they propose to christen “Alice Elwood.’’ 
Tell Blanche I want to see my little namesake — and her mother — 
very, very soon. 

Carl sends his love and kisses to his dear grandpa ; and little 
Ernest promises to be wise enough to know you when you visit us 
inext Christmas. From Your Affectionate Daughter, 

Ai.rcK. 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY! 

“It is very true, Alice, that the vote in the Assem- 
bly was unanimous in favor of revision ; but the Committee 
are instructed to propose no change in the Confession that 
will impair the Calvinistic system of doctrine — it is only the 
beginning of a severe doctrinal conflict in our church.” 

It was thus that Henry Elwood addressed the 
wife who sat by his side the evening of his return from 
the Presbyterian General Assembly, which was held in 
Saratoga, in the year of grace, 1890. 

“ Will they not be likely to prepare a report that 
will be satisfactory to both the revisionists and the anti- 
revisionists ? ” she asked. 

“I do not see how it will be possible for them to 
do so; and even if they should present a satisfactory 
compromise on the Calvinistic issue, there are other ques- 
tions that will agitate the church for several years to come. ” 

“ You do not fear this conflict, Henry?” 

“I hope I do not,” he calmly replied; “but since 
mingling with the other delegates at the Assembly, I 
feel that the time has come for me to speak out more 
clearly, and let my people know what interpretation I 
put upon many of the doctrines of the Confession of 
Faith — don’t you think so, Alice?” 

“I always like to see the birds stretch their wings 
and soar — that is what God made them for!” she 
answered, in her most winsome and inspiring tone. 

Two or three months later, Elwood received notice 


310 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


that he had been appointed to deliver the charge to Harry 
Howard, on the occasion of his installation as pastor of the 
Geneva church, which was to take place at the next reg- 
ular meeting of Excelsior Presbytery in that place. 

“What memories this awakens in my mind,” he 
said to Alice, as she came into his study — why was it 
that she nearly always pre.sented herself before him when 
her presence was especially desired? — one day, just before 
he began the preparation of this discourse. “It is 
nearly twenty years since I first saw Harry Howard, 
then a small and delicate child in our Mission Sunday 
School in New York; and, although he was unusually 
bright and interesting, I did not think at that time of 
his ever becoming a preacher — much less, that I would 
be called upon to deliver a charge to him as the pastor 
of so large a church as we have in Geneva.” 

“ ‘ Cast thy bread upon the waters ’ — the promises of 
the Scripture never fail, Henry,” she quietly and pleas- 
antly answered. 

“I could only assume a small proportion of credit, 
at best, for all that has been done for Harry ; but I greatly 
rejoice that he has become so fine a preacher.” 

“I know to whom he feels most indebted for early 
influences — he expressed himself to me on that point 
very clearly the last time he was at our house. He is 
your ‘spiritual child;’ at least, he so regards himself.” 

“ However that may be, Alice, I am very anxious to 
make my charge to him something more than a perfunc- 
tory office, and I can not quite determine what message 
would be most profitable to him and most appropriate to 
the occasion. He has lately come out of Union Seminary, 
which is the center of the theological controversy now so 
rife in our church ; and this discussion has already had 
considerable effect upon his mind and his thought.” 

“You do not fear his becoming ‘ unsound ’ in theol- 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY! 


311 


ogy, merely because he has been a student in Union 
Seminary?” 

“By no means, Alice,” he answered, with a smile ; 
“but what I do apprehend in his case is, that he will 
incline too far to the negative aspects of the broader and 
more liberal theology that is seeking a foothold in our 
church — he has dropped a few remarks in my ears that 
indicate this unmistakably. The ‘ Higher Criticism ’ seems 
to have a special charm for him ; and I have some fears 
that he will be more disposed to point out the errors he 
finds in the Bible in order to dispute its ‘inerrancy,’ than 
he will be to emphasize the living truth which it contains. 
There is also some danger — which is not an uncommon 
thing among ‘Liberals’ — of his becoming very dogmatic 
himself, even while most severely criticising the dogma- 
tism of others ! But, while he may love the flavor of 
heresy too well, I know that he has a noble and enthusi- 
astic spirit, and is anxious to prove himself a faithful and 
useful preacher.” 

“You have full confidence in his ability to fill his 
pulpit, haven’t you?” 

“Yes; but at the same time, it might have been 
much better for him, if he had gone to some smaller field 
until he acquired a few years’ experience.” 

“You can give him the benefit of your experience, 
Henry — he has always sought your counsel. ” 

“ Ministerial experience is a very hard thing to com- 
municate from one man to another, whether it be of any 
value or not ; but even if I could transfer mine to him, 
I could not give him such a wife as I have to insure 
his success.” 

This tribute to her devotion and efficiency Alice 
rewarded with a very gracious smile, and responded ; 
“There is no man whose friendly exhortation he will hear 
more willingly than yours, Henry” — and then, with 


312 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


beaming eyes — “ this will also be'an opportunity for you 
to let your ministerial brethren know your convictions in 
reference to Inspiration and certain other doctrines of the 
Confession of Faith!” 

“Yes, Alice, it is due to them as well as myself 
that they should understand me more clearly. I would be 
very glad to relieve them of all uneasiness in reference to 
my theology ; but I fear some of them will be hurt, if I 
speak too freely. ’ ’ 

“You should avoid giving offense, if possible, 
Henry ; and, if you speak in a very noble and reverent 
spirit, as I know you will, they will not be hurt, whether 
they agree with you or not ; and perhaps some of them — 
especially the younger preachers — will be very grateful for 
the benefit of your study and thought ! ” 

“ O, Alice, what a ministering angel you are!” he 
exclaimed, as he drew her close to his side. 

“I only want you to bear witness to the light that 
God has given you,” she answered, with a radiant smile. 

Elwood addressed himself to the preparation of this 
charge with unwonted zeal and assiduity, Alice spending 
two or three hours every day in his study, and bestowing 
on his work, as he expressed it, a heaven-born sympathy 
and interest. 

“I must hear you deliver this charge, Henry,” she 
said to him a few days before the time set for the installa- 
tion, even if I should never hear you preach again!” 

She smiled as she spoke ; but there was something in 
her tone that nearly startled him. 

“O, Alice, don’t express yourself in that way — still, 
I would be very glad of your presence on this occasion, as 
the members of the Presbytery will watch my utterances 
very closely — I can bear the ‘ pressure’ that will rest upon 
me more easily, if you are there.” 

“You are strong enough to bear it all yourself,” she 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY ! 


3l:; 

answered, with renewed cheerfulness ; ‘ ‘ but I am ver}' 
anxious to see your power and excellence as a preacher 
impressed upon the members of your Presbytery — that is 
the only way you can make them understand your theo- 
logical views!" 

“And yet you would not have me disturb the peace 
of the church, Alice?” 

“You will not be a disturber, Henry; on the 
contrary, your ministerial brethren will honor your 
courage and devotion, if they do not pray that a portion 
of your spirit may fail upon them.” 

The charge * to Harry Howard was delivered in the 
calm, clear tones for which Pdwood was noted, and was 
listened to with rapt attention by the Presbytery, although 
it was very plain that some of the older members, especi- 
ally, were surprised at the boldness of his utterances. But 
it was equally plain that the spirit and temper of his dis- 
course commanded their highest admiration ; and if he may- 
be said to have won a victory over them, it was such a vic- 
tory as left no sting, and added no sorrow thereto. 

Harry Howard’s attention and appreciation surpassed 


* My De.\r Fkiem) and IlKOTriEK: 

If I were to announce a Scriptural text as the basis of my remarks to you on 
this occasion, it woukl be the exliortatioii of .St. Paul, “ Kememher the words of 
the Lord .lesus, how he said. It is more hle.sscd to give than to receive.” This 
sublime truth does not address itself to oiii' sense.s, or to our “natui-al” undcr- 
staudiug. It conies down to us from Uod out of heaven, and appeals to our 
higher natures and our nobler faculties; and we can not comprehend it or even 
believe it from any material or sellish standpoint. It is a siiiritual truth, and 
must be spiritually' discerned. 

There be m.any (pialities and iiualillcations of the true preacher; but their 
roots must all he planted in the soil of service and sacrifice; all his motives and 
pui'iioses must pass through this crucible; all his gifts and powers must be laid 
dow'ii on this altar. He who does not delight to serve, he w ho is not ready for any 
sacrifice that may be demanded of him, can not fill the preacher’s sacred office 
in a manner acceptable to God or his fellow-men. 

As certainly as man has a brain, as certainly' as he has a stomach, as cer- 
tainly as lie has hands and feet, so certainly has he a moral and religious 
nature; and if isy'our high function to minister to this nature, to quicken it, and 
to inspire it. 

How high and holy is your Art— how pure and noble should be your puriiose: 


HENRY EL WOOD. 


:{14 

his highest expectations, and gave him a new realization 
of the blessedness of his labors in the Mission Sunday 
Schools of New York. 

And such light as beamed from the eyes of his devoted 
Alice while he was speaking — was it a reflection from the 
shores of the other world ? 

“Indeed, Henry, you surpassed yourself to-night,” 
she said to him, throwing her arms around his neck, as 
soon as the family where they were staying had retired for 
the night, and they were alone in their room; “my 
pleasure in your preaching increases every time I hear 
you — I almost fear it is becoming too great for this 
world ! ” she added, as she pressed her lips to his forehead. 

By some influence that they understood not, they sat 
in their chairs discussing various features and details of his 
future work, her vision seeming to him almost supernatu- 
rally clarified and enlarged. Then they talked of the 
training and education of their own boys; and here again 
her seeming — was it only seeming ! — penetration into the 
future greatly surprised him. 

The clock had struck twelve, when she suddenly 


The stars of heaven liave .scarcely more room to run their shining: courses, 
than you have opiiortunity to serve tlie neoiile of litis day :ind generation. 

To the end thiit you may tpialify yourself for this high service, let me exhort 
you to become a student itiitl lover of Mother Ntiture. The heitvens [iind the 
earth] declare the glory of (iod: and you should be able in some measure to 
interpret the message that they bring. 

1 can scarcely conceive of any sulijecl you may wish to pre.sent to your hear- 
ers, on which you may not deriveboth tight and inspirittion from reverent com- 
munion with all forms of life and betiuty that you llnd in the natural world. 

I do not merely mean thiit you should exidore the luiiterial creation for fig- 
ures and analogies wherewith to clothe and adorn your messiige, but that you 
should drink in tlie life and essense of Xature, iind become aeiiuainted with her 
inmost soul! 

Whatever be your reverence and regard for the things that iire old, let me 
urge you likewi.se to bring forth the things that are new. not occasioimlly, but 
constantly. 'I’lie hungrier men are, the more they will cherish the newly fallen 
manna; the thirstier they are, the more they will desire to drink the water that 
is fresh from the fountain. 

I do not mean that you must always pre.sent new facts and new theories— 
much less should you cultivate new and sensational styles of preaching; but 
yamr mind ami soul .should ever be charged with new and fresh thoughts, fresh 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY! 


315 


changed the order of their conversation, by saying to him, 
very earnestly : “Henry, don’t you believe that Dr. Ver- 
non and Clara Martin still love each other?” 

“ I would hardly think so, Alice ; they have met quite 
often the last two years, and I have seen no signs of their 
former attachment.” 

“ But, Henry, as I have said to you before, they may 
have feelings of tenderness for each other that they both 
shrink from manifesting ; and after so long a separation, 
they may need help in coming to an understanding — we 
were helped, you remember!” she added, smiling very 
archly. 

“If any one can do them service in this respect, you 
can, Alice, but — ” 

“ I know how serious their separation has been,” she 
interrupted ; “ but I would almost lay down my life to see 
Clara’s happiness secured — and he, too, is so noble, so 
pure, so good. They ought not to be separated as they 
now are ; they are not too old to love each other again 1 ” 

Early the next morning they took the train for 
Excelsior. 


feelings and fresh knowledge, drawn from your study of books and your contact 
with your fellow-men. 

And let me especially urge upon you the importance of sympathetic associa- 
tion with the children, with the lambs of your hock. For your own sake, as 
well as theirs, you sliould learn to gather these in your arms and carry them in 
your bosom. If you will do this, you will never grow old! Your hair 
may become gray; your face maj be covered with wrinkles; your form may 
be bent with age; but j'our spirit will always be as young and fresh as the morn- 
ing light! 

Whatever “doctrines” you may believe and cherish, you can not preach the 
TRUTH unless the name of Christ is written upon your forehead, and his teach- 
ings are incarnated in your life and character. Your personality and your mes- 
sage can not be separated— the latter can only be true as the former is true! 

I need not remind you that this is an age of scientiiic and philosophical 
iictivity and progress ; and you must expect your message to be constantly ques- 
tioned and challenged; and wherever you go, men will ask you to show them the 
sign and seal of your commission. 

You must confront not only the intolerant and un-philosophical— may i 
not also say un-scientitic? — opposition of Ingersoll, but the subtile mysticism of 
Uenan, the scientiiic researches of Darwin, and the comprehensive philosophy of 
Herbert Spencer and hosts of others. 


316 


HENRY ELWOUD. 


, “How glad the children will be to see us, Henry,’' 
said Alice, as soon as their train came in sight of Excel- 
sior; “had you thought of the fact that this is the first 
time I have been separated from them over night?” And 
then, as she looked out of the car window: “We have 
reached the Excelsior creek embankment — how steep and 
high it looks ! ” 

But she did not see the broken rail a few rods ahead 
of the train, else she would have clung to her husband’s 
side more closely than she did. 

V. A moment or two later, their car took on a peculiarly 
quivering motion, and, without waiting for its passengers to 
realize their situation, rolled down the steep embankment! 

The accident was attended with the usual result in 
such cases — so many “killed,” so many “seriously 
injured,” so many “slightly injured.” 

Among the latter was Henry Elwood. He very 
quickly extricated himself from the debris around him, and 
realized that the wound on his head was only a slight 
one — but where was Alice ? 

She had been thrown several feet from him ; and it 

And this disposition to doubt and sift and analyze your every utterance you 
will meet not only among the leaders and exponents of i)ublic sentiment, but also 
among the ma.sses of the people, among church-members and church -goer.s, as 
well as among those who do not attend your services. 

To meet this condition of the public mind, you must needs be jourself a 
TniNKKK. You can not put down “Infidelity” and defy “Agnosticism.” and 
justify your message by ex cathedra utterances. You should be well versed in 
the standard literature of the day, both orthodox and lieteredox, and should be 
familiar, as far as i)ossible, with all the theories and arguments of the various 
schools of philosophy, as well as with the researches and revelations of scientists. 

All these things should make you appreciate more fully the beauty and 
excellence of our holy religion ! 

Moreover, your people have a right to your highest and best thought, and to 
all the activities of your mind and soul. If }ou have met the Lord face to face 
upon the mountain, they want the message you have received inscribed upon 
the tables of their hearts. If you have heard his still small voice after the wind 
and the eartluiuake and the fii-e have passed by, you should not fail to utter his 
words in their ears, that they, too, may be made wise. 

You should bean Artist; and I would have you reveal every accent of the 
Holy Ghost that you receive, and paint every gleam of light that comes to yoti 
from the throne of the Eternal ! 


MORTALITY X'SD IMMORTALITY! 


317 


took him but a second or two to see that, with a number 
of other passengers, sh& was caught between some timbers 
of the car, from which she could not be extricated without 
considerable effort. 

“Are you hurt, Alice?” he anxiously inquired, 
as he hastened to her rescue. 

“Not badly, I hope,” she answered; and just then 
the cry was raised that the car was on fire ! 

It was at the other end, however ; and as she saw the 
flames just beginning to rise, she quickly cried to- 
him, “Take out those nearest the fire first, Henry ! — you 
will reach me in time ! ” 

She spoke so clearly and emphatically that he obeyed ; 
and by the rapid and almost superhuman exertions of him- 
self and a few uninjured passengers and employes, all the 
imprisoned ones were rescued from the fire. As the place 
of the accident was less than a mile from the corporation 
lines of the city, very soon large numbers of the people 
came out to see who was hurt, and to render such assis- 
tance as might be needed. 

One of the families belonging to Elwood’s church 


You should be a Singer; and I would have you repeat every note of t:iieruhiui 
aii<l Seraphim that your soul may hear I 

Even your prayers and hymns and formal services should be good tidings of 
great joy to your people; and your every sermon should sound like a revelation 
from the skies! 

I can not ]iromise you, however, that in this process of thinking and reason- 
ing, you yourself shall be free from all doubts and tfuestions concerning the 
symbols of our faith; nay, you may have doubts that will sorely try your heart 
and conscience. 

When such doubts come, think not that stime stkakge thing has happened- 
to you, but remember that your mind and soul need to be thus exercised, for 
the strengthening of your manhood, and to prepare you for a higher and holier 
message than you have yet preached. The angels of light will come to your 
relief, but not until you have used your utmost strength and your highest facul- 
ties in searching for truth and wisdom. 

1 can give you no rule or formula for the solution of these prohhnns; but I 
can exhort you to he very patient, to be very humble, to be very reverent, and 
to be very earnest in every good word and work before you. 

I can exhort you to master youi* doubts so far as to keep them in the back- 
ground, that in the foreground you may present whatever message of convic- 
tion the Spirit of Truth may communicate to your soul! 


18 


HENKY ELWOOI). 


lived a very short distance from the wreck, and remem- 
bering that their minister and his wife were expecting to 
return by this train, they hastened to the spot, with the 
greatest anxiety. 

The injured woman was placed in their carriage as soon 
as they arrived ; and they insisted on taking her to their 
house until a doctor could be called, and the extent of her 
injuries be ascertained ; but, with many thanks for their 
kindness, she said, with an emphasis that could not be 
resisted, “ I want to see my children — take me home ! ” 

When they reached the parsonage, they found a large 
number of parishioners and acquaintances both inside and 
•outside ; for the news of Alice’s injury had spread very 
rapidly over the city, and all who knew her were anxious 
to learn how serious it was. 

Henry carried her into the house, and laid her on the 
bed, and at once telephoned for Vernon. 

The message found the latter in his office, and 
he obeyed the summons without a moment’s delay. 

The examination was made, and showed a num- 


llow unsatisfactory, how unprofitaljle, how ungracious, must he the ollice of 
tlie i)rcacher wlio attempts to feed liis people with the dry tiusks of denial and 
negation, flow bitter must he tlieir cry of reproach, because he gives them 
^stones instead of living bread ! 

As a preparation for the reception of truth, there must indeed be some ncga- 
,tive leaching, just as the forest must be cleared before the ground can be plowed; 
hut whenever this is the. case, see to it that your purpose is to j)resent a living 
message. Remembei- that Christ came not to destroy the law and the prophets, 
but to fultill them ! 

From whatever staudimint you may regard the issue or contlict between 
su thodoxy and heterodoxy in our church, let not its imiKU tance be unduly mag- 
nitied in your mind, le.sl you neglect the weightier matters of the divine law, 
which are neither the sfiecial tenets of orthodoxy nor those of hetei-odoxy, but 
.iudgment, mercy and faith. This conllict— if wc are to call it such— is not like 
the meeting of an irresistible force and an immovable body, (if I may use this 
tigure); but rather is it like the operation of the centripetal and centrifugal 
forces, which together hold the earth in its orbit, and cause its unceasing revo- 
lution about the sun! 

The doctrine of election, oi- predestination, as now stated in our Confession, 
imay seriously oftend your notion of the divine wisdom and justice; and it must 
it)C conceded that it would be dilVcult to reconcile any statement of this doctrine 
with human free agency and responsibility; but the denial of fore-ordination 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY ! 


319 


ber of external wounds and a very severe shock to the 
nervous system., but no broken bones. 

“She will need very careful nursing, Elwood, and will 
soon recover” — but Vernon’s candor compelled him to 
add, although he knew the words would pierce his friend’s 
heart most sorely — “ if there is no internal injury ! ” 

There were too many inquiring friends in and 
about the house for Henry to question him more 
■closely at the time ; and, after a careful dressing of 
all the wounds that his examination had revealed, and 
repeating his injunctions as to rest and quiet, Vernon 
took his leave, promising to call again in the evening. 

■ When he returned about sunset, he found the 
house still filled and still .•surrounded with anxious 
friends, and when he reached his patient’s chamber, 
he saw Clara Martin by her bed.side, watching every 
breath and ever)’ motion of her suffering friend. 

Although Clara lived two or three miles away, at 
the first news of the accident, she had hastened to the 
Elwood parsonage, anxious to minister to the comfort of 
■of the one who had so often cheered and eomforted her. 


would only s^hil't your difficulty, at best I'he origin of evil is inexplicable; and 
its e.xistence— in the last analysis— can only be disposed of by referring it to the 
divine order and government. Be not too curious concerning this “high mys- 
tery,” nor too anxious to define the manner and method of the Divine Sover- 
eignty with the narrow circles of either your affirmation or negation. Rather 
teach men to love and adore the Inscrutable Power thatreigneth overall things, 
without beginning or end, and exhort them to find their peace and comfort in 
the everlasting order of the heavens and the earth. Rather be yourself lost in 
unceasing wonder and admiration, as you behold time and space, mind and mat- 
ter, thmgs present and things to come, moving in unchanging and eternal har- 
mony around the throne of God! 

You may not believe in the literal or absolute “inerrancy” of tin; 
Bible; but this should not prevent your oflering it to your people as a veritable 
fountain of inspiration, and as profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correc- 
■tion, and for instruction in righteousness. 

If your “ higher criticism ” of its contents leads you to deny its verbal inspi- 
ration, learn from it the more fully— and preach as you learn— that the Spirit of 
God alway'S inspires and quickens the souls of men. Preach that God speaks to 
us as certainly as he spoke to the prophets and righteous men of old, and that he 
would have us hear every word that proceedeth out of his mouth. Give not your 
people the hard shell of this truth, but the living kernel. Teach them that 


320 


HENRY ELWOOI). 


She looked into Vernon’s face most appealingly ; 
but it was an appeal for his highest skill in Alice’s behalf, 
and O, how she sought an assuratice from his lips that the 
patient’s injuries were not beyond his treatment ! 

Vernon was touched by her tears and her great 
anxiety, and .responded with a look of sincerest sym- 
pathy ; but the coveted assurance that there was no dan- 
ger could not be given. 

And to Elwood’s anxious inquiries, he could only 
repeat what he had said at his former visit. 

Scores of friends, comprising women of all walks of 
life, were at hand, offering their services in nursing and 
caring for the injured woman, but Vernon found it neces- 
sary to issue strict orders for the exclusion of all visitors 
from her room — only Clara Martin being allowed to 
remain. 

And hour after hour, and day after day, the faithful 
Clara continued her watching and nursing, almost refusing 
both food and sleep, that she might relieve the sufferings 
of her dear friend, and, if possible, save her life. 

Notwithstanding her great suffering, Alice insisted that 


Inspiration is tlie breath ok God to ((uickoii their rca.son, not to stille it, ai>d a 
glorious light to open their eyes, not to close them! 

Ill this connection, you may well remcmher that the church to which you 
minister is not a ma.ss of machinery, to he regulated and controlled by the iron 
hands of dogmatic theology, hut a living organism, to he sustained hy hreathing, 
thinking and feeling. 

It were an easy ollicc to tell men how many things they can not accomplish 
hy prayer; hut your ])nrpose should ever he to tell them— almost without ceas- 
ing— that we sustain such a relation to the Inilnite Father, that he must needs, 
hear every utterance of our souls, and willgi\ e the proper answer to all our 
petitions. Hut while yon ineach thus, forget not also to jireach that true 
prayer is ever i.awki i., not unlawful; that it is obedient, not disohedient; that 
it is pioH-s, not im))ious, or presumptuous. 

“Total Depravity,” as a distinct dogma, may hardly find a place in the 
nomenclature of your theology ; but this will not dispose of the tendency to 
KV ii, that yon find in human nature every where— .saying nothing of men's actual 
trangre.ssions. Call this tendency by whatever name yon will, the fact of its 
existence remains. Surely men need to be purified and converted (continuously) 
to prejiare them for the new heaven and the new earth wherein dwelleth right- 
eousness ! 

You may not be able to solve the mystery of the Trinity any more clearlj 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY! 


321 


her children should have the full privilege of her room, 
and many hours were spent in talking to them and bestowr 
ing her love and caresses upon them. 

Only the most pressing calls could induce Henry to 
leave her bedside ; and whenever these came, she urged 
him to go, and as soon as he returned would ask for a full 
account of the office he had rendered to those who were 
in trouble or distress. 

Vernon spent many hours each day with his patient, 
exercising his best skill in her behalf — but the long looked 
for time when he could assure Elwood that all danger was 
over did not come. 

More than a week was occupied in this incessant 
watching, and this hoping against hope, when one morn- 
ing, soon after daylight, and while they were awaiting 
Vernon’s arrival, the patient called her husband to her 
bedside, and clasping his hands in hers, looked into his 
face very intently for a few minutes, and then said to 
him — how feeble and yet how clear was her voice — 
■“ Henry, my dear Henry, I have thought from the very 
first my injury would prove fatal, but for your sake I have 
tried to persuade myself I could recover — ” 


<han your fathers before you have done; but he earnest in preaching liow God is 
immanent in ail his ways and woi'k.s, liow he was and is manifest in the llesli, 
and liow his Spirit pervades the universe and abides in tlie hearts and souls 
of men. 

O, that the divinity of Clirist miglit become a vital inspiration to our 
s'hurches, and that we might all realize that he is our elder brother! 

I know not what perplexity, if any, may he in your mind eoneerning the 
■doeti-iue of the Atonement; but 1 would have you realize, above all things, that 
it involvies the great law of sacritice, which must be fullilled by all of us, if we 
would aceoinplish the end of our creation and make our lives worth the living. 
O, my brother, I charge you to bow your head very low before the unspeakable 
mystery of this obligation, and do not refuse to follow the Christ, when he so 
commands, through every scene of privation, humiliation and jiain, even unto 
Af'ath ! 

You may not be able to determine the limits of the divine niei’cy and com- 
passion, either in this world or the next; but you may assert with utmost empha- 
sis, that no man can sin against light and truth and wisdom without wronging 
bis own soul— and who shall measure the wrong that any one may do himself by 
jiersisteut and continued sinniugV Whatever notions of “future punishment'’ 


322 


HENRY ELWOOD. 


‘ ‘ O, Alice, you must recover — it can not be other- 
wise — we could not bear to lose you 1” 

She lifted her hands to his eyes, and tried to wipe 
away the bitter tears that were beginning to fall, and pres- 
ently continued: “No, Henry, it is God’s will that I 
should die; and I know you will bear it manfully and 
bravely.” 

Her voice was so calm, and her smile so sweet, that 
his paroxysm of grief was partially suppressed ; but he still 
cried, “ O, Alice, lean not preach, I can not live, with- 
out you ! ” 

Again she raised her hands to his face, and, after 
smoothing his cheeks for a moment, said, “God will still 
be with you, Henry, and you can live for him and your 
church. Your ministry is only begun. You ought to 
preach forty years more before you retire, if you should 
retire before you die. Don’t get weary of your work, 
Henry, and, for my sake, be always cheerful and hope- 
ful with your people. If, after I am gone, I am ever 
permitted to come back to earth, I want to find you in 
your pulpit every Sunday, preaching the same message, 
with the same dear voice that has always delighted me so 1 ” 


you may lind amoiifjf your )iearers, fail not to tell them that they arc always- 
standiii)^ before the judgment-seat of Christ, and always receiving — in their 
lives and characters— liis sentence of approval or condemnation, according to 
the deeds done in the body. Tell them that tliey are i)assing to his right hand, 
or his ieft hand, with every choice tliat they make between righteousness and 
unrighteousness ! 

Helieve not those wh<i tell you that “ miracles do not happen,” nor yet those 
who say that “ the age of miracles is past.” Rather believe and preacli that the 
Divine hand is visible in ai.i. the phenomena of Nature, and that the Divine 
power worketh hitherto, and worketh unceasingly. Rather preach that the 
miracle of miracles— the miracle that is wrought from everlasting to everlast- 
ing— the miracle of which all other miracles are but types and shadows and 
object lessons— is the supremacy of moral and spiritual power! 

He who sKEs'the w orking of this miracle is a believer of believers;— he Avh<» 
<loubts or denies it is a heretic of heretics. 

Rnt with all your thought and study and prayer, the mystery of the Divln<> 
government w ill never be fully solved. 

You must be content to see through a glass darkly, realizing that only Gml 
can give the final answer to all the questionings of your soul ! 


MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY. 


32:5; 


Then she called the children, and after fondly kissing 
them, and charging them always to love and obey^ 
their dear papa, she said to Henry: “ How thankful I am. 
that j/ou were spared ! You will be both father and 
mother to our children, I know, and teach them to be 
noble and good ! ” 

And looking into the faces of her husband and chil- 
dren, she summoned all her power, and softly sang in 
their ears : 

‘‘ We shall sleep, but not forever, 

There will be a glorious dawn; 

We shall meet to part, no never, 

On the RESURRECTION MORN !” 

Her end was fast approaching ; but the work of her 
life was not yet finished. 

Vernon came in a few minutes after; and, while he 
was counting the pulsations of her wrist, she clasped his 
hand, and said to him, in very feeble accents: “Doc- 
tor, you have done all you could, for me — but God wills 
that I should die ! ” and still holding his hand in hers, she 
gently called, “ Clara ! ” 

As Clara bent over the bed to render whatever ser- 
vice might be wanted of her, the dying woman seized her 


Stand forth, then, in the strength and excellence of your manhood, and 
remember that he who has clean hands and a pure heart may safely walk by 
faith and not by sight. 

l^ay fast hold of the power that inaketh for righteousness, and whatever 
strain may be put upon your mind or your conscience, be patient to endure as 
seeing him who is invisible! 

Let your pulpit be a tower of light from which the stars are watched, and a 
place where the Divine Shekinah is visible to every hearer and worshiper! 

O, the beauty and excellence of the power that turns men from darkness U> 
light, and from sin unto righteousness. 

It is the tinest of all the line arts, and a pearl of greater price than all the 
riches and trea.'iures of the earth 

ft is the llavor of the apple; it is the fragrance of the llower; it is the beauty 
of the sky; it is the brightness of the sun; it is the song of the morning stars; it is- 
the breath of him who created Ihe w«)iids! 

In whatsoever measure you have this power, 1113’ brother, let me exhort you 
to cherish it in your heart of hearts and cultivate it to the utmost capacity of 
your mind and soul. Cultivate it — cultivate it— and '^again I say to you,. 
CULTIVATE it! 


HEXKY ELWOOI). 


:.324 

hand also, and placing it in Vernon’s, looked up into their 
faces with a smile so like an angel’s, that they stood before 
her entranced. Their eyes met ; the memory of their 
youthful love rushed upon their consciousness ; they 
looked down upon the pale face before them ; and, with no 
other word or sign or token, the souls of Homer Vernon 
.and Clara Marlin were united once more. 

Serving and blessing to the last ! 

They continued to v/atch by her bedside ; but she 
•could speak no more. The bright smile was fading away ; 
the dear eyes were growing dim ; the faithful hands were 
losing their warmth ; and, in a few hours, all was over ! 

The silver chord was loosed — the golden bowl was 
broken — the precious heart was still — the beloved Alice 
was dead ! 

And two days later, amid the tears and sorrow of a 
great congregation — the largest ever assembled in any 
church building in Excelsior, — Dr. Goodway preached 
her funeral discourse from a text which awoke a respon- 
sive echo in every breast: “And they that be wise 

SHALL SHINE AS THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE FIRMAMENT; 
AND THEY THAT TURN MANY TO RIGHTEOUSNESS AS THE 
STARS FOREVER AND EVER ! ” 


THE END. 


47 9 92 







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